Conviction - An Undertale Story
by Manoasky
Summary: The happy ending they wished for remains out of reach. Frisk struggles to obtain it through her role as Ambassador, only to face off against a human with a bitter SOUL. Humanity, it turns out, has shadows of flowers. How many times will her Determination be tested until what was their story, becomes his own twisted tale? A skeleton waits for the epilogue. Frisk/Sans, postPacifist.
1. Chapter 1

Conviction

An Undertale Story

FemaleFrisk/Sans, post True Pacifist ending

* * *

Chapter One

* * *

Metropia was, and remained to be, the largest city Frisk had ever been in. It dwarfed New Home, making the Underground city appear to be a collaboration of children's blocks and poor design. Surrounded in strangely green forest, Metropia was a towering collection of metal skyscrapers and flying billboards. If you were to view it from Mount Tobee at night, the magic keeping the advertisements afloat made them appear like nightbugs flittering about, streaking purple against the yellow windows of the never-sleeping city.

Frisk was currently standing at one of these windows, looking out to the forest beyond. Squinting, she saw what she was looking for, only seeing it because she was looking. It was nearly invisible to the eye, the assortment of lights and neon buzzing about the skyscraper she stood in.

Newest Home's lights were hidden within the forest, the city remaining short, but wide. With Frisk's position in the sky, however, she could see the barest tips of houses and businesses in the distance. If she believed hard enough, she could even see the movement of it's monster citizens.

She wondered how they were. It had been nearly two months since she had visited, and while Newest Home was only a thirty minute drive over, she had been so occupied with the Embassy and the political turmoil within that she hadn't even the time to plan a trip.

 _I hope father is okay,_ Frisk thought to herself, placing an olive-skinned hand against the perfectly polished glass. If she cared to notice, the magic of the window resisted her smudges and fingerprints. _I know mother has been too busy with school to babysit him like I know he wants. Maybe the town is keeping him busy enough to stay out of trouble._

She considered her friends. While Alphys and Undyne usually traveled back and forth between the two towns, be it for work or leisure, she hadn't seen them in a few weeks. Frisks's mouth twisted into a frown as she recalled the last time Alphys was in town.

 _General Deighton has the charm of a glass of spoiled milk._

Still frowning, Frisk pulled away from the window and returned to her desk to collect her things. She was off the clock and didn't desire to continue her thoughts regarding the ever-growing tensions between monsters, humans, and the persistent gouging for more magic.

 _Father wishes to have that information sealed away. Yet time and time again, the General continues to find excuses to summon Alphys back._ Frisk paused in her thoughts, and snickered to herself, recalling Undyne's method to end the last meeting. _I don't think they ever figured out a proper spell to put that conference table back together._

Having collected her handbag, personal objects, and cell phone, she took one last look in her office mirror to flatten down her tightly pulled bun. Brown eyes, usually warm and mischievous, were dim and tired, the day long past due for ending. Frisk regarded herself blankly from under her bangs, not having a thought one way or another about how she appeared, as she considered herself rather ordinary, albeit exhausted.

"Am I odd for a teenager?" she said aloud, not really asking. From her perspective, she was shaped like one; small and on the shorter side with a oval face, snub nose, pout lips and very, very tired almond eyes. All of this was stuffed into a pinstriped suit with a tight collar and finely tailored patch portraying the Delta Rune. To be blunt, she looked like a kid who got into their parents closet and decided to play pretend.

 _It's no wonder I struggle to get anything to be taken seriously. But, despite that..._

She had obligations, and promise she had to fulfill. This task was given to her by her father, Asgore, himself. She wouldn't let him down.

 _And,_ she thought to herself with a smile as she heard the ding of an approaching elevator, _it's not as if I am alone in all of this._

"Human Frisk!" An excited pair of eyeless sockets appeared around the edge of her office door. "We have come to escort you to your home!"

"Papyrus, it's practically our home now," said Frisk, turning away from the mirror, disrupting her revere. "You sleep in it almost as much as I do. Though, it's not much of a home for me, either. It's what the ambassador has been assigned to live in here. I'd much rather be at Newest Home."

Papyrus had emerged fully at this point, but he was pressing his hands to his face, swaying bashfully. "I hadn't considered that you may feel that way! I, the great Papyrus and Assistant Ambassador, am honored!"

Papyrus hadn't changed much. The tall skeleton had improved his battle armor, having removed the pieces he collected from the underground garbage for newer, less trash-like parts. He also had a delta symbol on his chest much like hers. His role as Assistant Ambassador usually included eating lunch with her in her office, interjecting hard to follow ideas in meetings, and fighting with Toby when he decided to make an appearance.

Frisk's nose crinkled as she grinned. She loved Papyrus very much. "Speaking of home, will you be staying there tonight?" She couldn't help her eyes drifting past the tall skeleton's shoulder.

"Yes!" A pause. "I think I should ask Sans. He gets cranky if I don't ask him about these kinds of things." His eyes narrowed discreetly. "If you ask me, I think it's because he needs more iron in his diet. SANS! Will you be accompanying us to the human home?"

"Up to you, bro."

Her eyes caught hold of what she was searching for, and her smile relaxed. Sans came into the study yawning, waving his bony hand in lazy greeting. He had grown a little taller in his age, just a little more than her petite height. He also seemed a little more tired than the used to, his eyes always looking as if he had missed an hour of sleep or so. His ever present grin was still the same however. He was wearing, what he called, his 'Sity Slitters,' emphasis on the 'S.' To Frisk's eye, they looked the same.

Sans had been critical to her role as ambassador, and to be frank, she would not be where she was today without his influence. While Papyrus was the one who fed her, babysat her, and took her to her meetings at the mere age of eight, Sans had been the real effort behind her success. He was the one who replaced Papyrus's horrid spaghetti with something edible and nutritious, he was the one who kept an eye on her when Papyrus became caught up in his books regarding babysitting, and he was also the one who dropped hints about where and when his brother was supposed to have her at a meeting. All of these things he injected with his now-cherished brand of humor.

Sans was also the one to scare off would-be attackers intent on making the monster ambassador disappear. Her life had been at risk since she fell down Mount Ebott, and it continued to be at risk when she emerged through the other end on Mount Tobee and accepted the role of ambassador. Asriel had been right when he said there were a lot of Floweys out there. The response was hostile the monsters emerged, and their start was incredibly rocky to begin with. To top it all off, they had appointed her, a kid at the time, to broker healthy relationships. It was no wonder she remained to be in danger, still to this day.

Yet, here she remained, still Ambassador Frisk Dreemurr. It seemed that Sans's mere presence solidified her spot amongst the adults, though she knew he had been up to more than what he let on. She never asked him about it, having seen a certain part of him once long ago over dinner in the underground... She knew it was for the best not to ask, and she also knew he would prefer that she not thank him for it either. Maybe she'd get him a new pair of socks instead.

Sans stopped next to Papyrus, hands now in his coat. White pupils drifted up to meet hers. He smiled at her. She waved at him simply. "How'd it go today bud? You look... bone-tired."

Frisk let out a sigh. She doubled checked her belongings, then began to head out. "There have been worse days... Though I feel like I have to fight off General Deighton and his crew every day now. It's an uphill battle with those people... For instance, did you know they wanted to increase the toll to cross the border between Newest Town and Metropia? The amount of taxation going on is already absurd, and the work that monsters get isn't exactly protected. Needless to say, I am ready to leave." She she stopped at the door, sliding her hand down the wall. The lights dimmed into darkness, disappearing with a flicker of magical sparks. "No matter what I seem to say or do, I'm afraid that we're eventually going to have to at least let some humans into the Underground. They're only interested in one thing."

"Well," said Sans, watching his brother run up to the elevator and press the down button before whipping around to attention, "they haven't killed us yet from coming to the surface. Didn't your mom ever teach you to share?"

Frisk stuck her tongue out at him. "They _barely_ did not kill us Sans, if you recall. And Mother did teach me manners, but she also agrees that they don't belong down there." More seriously, she said, "Humans are full of greed, Sans. They're a whole other creature, and nothing like monsters. Who knows what trouble they'd get into."

"I can think of a few things." One finger. "Lock us underground." Another. "Poison the King." He looked slyly up at her, holding up another finger. "Drive innocent dogs to the brink of insanity, bore a dummy to tears, eat entire bowls of candy-"

"It's not like anyone else was going to eat it!"

"The sign was pretty clear to me."

Frisk simmered and turned on him, grabbing onto where his cheeks would be. She pinched- hard- and his eyes began to swirl. "Don't make me eat you..."

The elevator dinged, and Papyrus jumped to attention once again, having become distracted by a floating advert. It was for buy one, get one free calzones. It had a stereotypical Italian man made of neon and magic blurting, 'It'sa Delicious!'

They all piled in, and with a sigh Frisk pressed the '1' button which unfortunately sat at the very bottom of hundreds of other buttons. It was incredibly ironic that the Underground Embassy happened to be located at the tallest skyscraper in Metropia. The trip down at least was pretty.

The glass elevator descended smoothly and Frisk looked out once again, watching the lights and windows zoom by. This city never slept, and since it was Friday night, it was even more busy than usual. The ground seemed to move like waves of colored sand until they drew further down, revealing individual human features. Occasionally, a monster here and there, but they often moved alone, markedly being avoided by any other humans.

 _It's a slow process,_ thought Frisk with a sigh. _But we'll get there._

The elevator dinged again, and they stepped out into a mostly empty lobby lined with elevators on each side and a huge front desk. She noticed Papyrus was on alert again, and rolled her eyes with a smile. The best of bodyguards, she was sure.

"You will be so excited to see the car," said Papyrus, swinging his arms as he marched. "I took it to the car shop and got it equipped with the newest upgrades!"

"Ah." Frisk hesitated. "What.. kind of upgrades, Papyrus?"

"Aaaaah!" He swiveled his head behind him. His body continued forward in it's determined pace. "The scoundrel tried to hide it from me, but he covered the vehicle in a magical wax that will make us faster, and!" He held up a hand. "Immune to volcanoes! You never know when we'll make a trip to Hotland. Sans does not have many good recommendations, but this one, I had to admit, was brilliant!"

Frisk stumbled and Sans snickered. Papyrus did not notice, lost in his recollection. He rubbed where his chin should have been, nodding smugly. "He thought I couldn't afford it, but I, the Great Papyrus and Assistant Ambassador to the monsters scoffs at money! He didn't believe me... so I offered double!"

She noticed Sans's chuckling growing next to her. "That's... fantastic, Papyrus!" She forced a grin. Pleased with her approval, his head swiveled back just in time to avoid charging into a planter.

Once Papyrus turned back around, she whipped to face Sans and brought her fist down on the back of his skull. He dodged, which made her even angrier. "What are you doing?!" she hissed. "You are supposed to be keeping an eye on him!"

He shrugged with a grin, shaking his head. "Woah, someone's getting a little... _hot-headed!_ Who was I to know if it was magic or not? Besides, volcanoes are unpredictable. You never know when they'll strike."

"You know very well that-!" Frisk reigned it in. The receptionist was still there, and she already found her to be very queer. She also knew she was fond of the General. Straightening her back, she brought her hand up for a polite cough and followed after Papyrus, short heels clacking against the dark polished stone floor. Her eyes flashed up at Sans.

 _This isn't over._

His pale orbs gazed down, his smile unfaltering. _Later, then._

The skyscraper was empty now, except for Jerry the janitor. They waved to the monster as he cleaned quietly. Frisk wondered if he was the only one that cleaned, since she never saw anyone else. It seemed that almost all of the hard labor jobs, or the jobs less savory were being delegated to monsters.

 _At least,_ thought Frisk as she watched Jerry push his broom away, _he gets to work in such a beautiful place._

Magus Seven Tower was indeed very beautiful, in it's own monochromatic way. The center of the city, it was a beacon of technology and magic, designed by the former High Magus. Everything was composed of metal and stone, shaped in too perfect a way. Obsidian veined with gold, with titanium walls reflecting fuzzy images. Occasionally you'd see a splash of color and a ripple of magic, but it was hardly ever more than another advertisement or the occasional Casual Friday tie.

The one place that did seem to have some life to it, the coffee stand near the garage, was closed. A chalkboard sign was flipped around with a pink flower drawn on it. It said "Closed - Come again!" M.K. must had gone home hours ago. Frisk had stayed far beyond the end of the work day.

She let out a long groan, slumping backwards. "I'm so ti-ired!"

"Do ambassadors act like that?"

"Yes, _Sans,_ " she sneered with contempt, "especially this one. I shouldn't be allowed to ambassador anything past five."

"Our noble job never rests, Frisk!" Papyrus opened the door to the parking garage. "Though," he added slyly, "I wouldn't mind a vacation every now and then..."

"Didn't you just go out of town to that toy convention with Alphys and Undyne?"

"Yes but I was all alone most of the time!" He crossed his arms in a pout. "And they made me sleep in the bathroom in the hotel room!"

"That's because you didn't make your own reservations," pointed out Sans. Their voices echoed as they entered the garage.

"I thought they'd let me at least have the couch... Ah! My beauty!" Papyrus ran up to his red corvette and pet it happily. "How do you feel? Is the wax making you extra happy? I hope so!"

Frisk and Sans were already headed into the car, waiting for Papyrus to get in. Eventually the older skeleton noticed and jumped in, checking all mirrors. With a gasp, he slapped his hands to his face in horrified shock. He pointed with a shaking hand at their seatbelts. "You must buckle up! It is the most important part about travel!"

Frisk and Sans shared a look, and slowly, put their seatbelts. "Alright, Papyrus. We're ready." Frisk smiled. "Let's go home."

"Nyeh heh heh!" Papyrus turned the key and the machine roared to life, headlights blaring bright. He revved the engine, growling with each press of the pedal. The radio was turned to the latest hits, a female pop star's voice belting a catchy tune. "Time to put this new coat to the test! Are you prepared for the fastest travel in your life?!"

Frisk saluted him. "Full speed, captain!"

"Hooray," droned Sans.

With another cackle, Papyrus slammed the pedal to the floor. The tires burned on the ground, smoke flaring. With the swivel of it's end, the car jolted out of the garage, taking air as it hit a speed bump.

The security guard at the check station, another monster, was watching an old-fashioned television and eating a sandwich. Without even looking, he pressed the button to lift the gate blocking the exit. The roar of the car came first, followed by Papyrus's maniacal cackle, then the red corvette appeared around the corner, screeching as it turned then blazed forward. The security guard and Frisk managed a split second wave of farewell before they blasted out of the tower, barreling straight into traffic.

"NYEH HEH HEH HEEEEEH!" He turned the wheel hard, tires screaming. Cars around them honked and cursed as Papyrus cut across four lanes of traffic. The city loomed high over head, the tops of buildings disappearing into the pitch dark sky. Frisk preemptively braced herself as she checked her phone for any new messages on the UnderNet. Sans was scratching at his nose socket, trying to hold back a sneeze.

The car righted itself, allowing only a few moments for Metropia's noise to settle in; the horns from angry drivers, the echoes of advertisements playing on large floating screens, the ever present thrum of magic in the air. Then, the car screamed again as the pedal hit the floor. Papyrus hunched over his steering wheel, eyes ablaze. They jolted forward, skipping again over the busy arterial, blazing straight for a beautifully designed estate. Fenced with green trees and bushes, with a perfectly manicured lawn, it stuck out like a sore thumb. Additionally, it was absolutely dwarfed in size as it snuggled right between Magus Seven and it's neighboring skyscraper.

"Prepare... MY ULTIMATE PARKING ATTACK!" The gate to the estate was already open, the helpers hired there having heard Papyrus's approach. The red demon vehicle flashed through the gates.

"Make sure you take it in easy," reminded Frisk, looking over her phone.

Papyrus slammed his foot down on the break, pulling back on the steering wheel. The car groaned and let out a high pitched screech as it swiveled and slowed towards the garage. Slowly, very slowly, it approached the back wall until very, very gently, it crawed to a stop just a hair's width away from touching paint.

Delicately, Papyrus put the car into park and shut off the engine. The lights went out around them as black smoke from burnt rubber filled the garage.

"You know," mused Frisk with a finger to her chin, "I _do_ think we did get here a little faster than normal. Though I think next time, you should invest in volcano-resistent tires."

"Meh," shrugged Sans, "could have been faster."

Papyrus looked at him with outrage. "SANS-!"

The doors to the car opened up. "Welcome home, miss!" The voices harmonized. "We missed you!"

"Thank you Rosie, Posie." She smiled at the polite maid whose head was a beautiful blooming yellow rose. Her sister, Posie, had an equally charming head of pink posies.

Posie offered out her hand, also flowers. "Your bag, miss?"

"Yes, thank you. Any guests tonight?" They walked into the house, Papyrus lagging behind as he said goodnight to the corvette.

"None tonight, miss. Though, there is a letter that arrived for you with the King's seal. It appears to be an invitation to the anniversary party they put together."

"Oh, right, the anniversary!" Frisk's eyes lit up when she recognized the lavendar envelope she knew her mother picked out. The tenth anniversary of the barrier coming down was fast approaching, and a proper celebration was being put together this year. She had originally been on the planning committee, but her obligations to her job had forced her to back out of her position. The last she heard, her mother had taken up the work she couldn't do.

Frisk flipped the invitation around. The seal of the royal family was stamped on the front in silver. She was still involved however, though in a way she preferred she wasn't. She thought of the latest draft for the trade agreement they had proposed, and the human businesses they wanted to put into Newest Home. No doubt that the General would want to discuss the potential schedule they could start breaking ground, which meant she'd be right next to him to address any of his... inquiries.

"I'll look at this later, I'm too tired to write back right now." She placed the envelope back on the platter it had been presented on. It disappeared in a flare of magic.

"Of course. We will leave the invitation for you upstairs later to view."

The lights in the estate were all still on, floating globes of warm golden light. The cherry wood floors were polished to a shine, so much so that Frisk became suddenly conscious of her skirt and stepped onto the lush creamy rug in the center of the room instead. The main hall had a grand staircase leading up to the different bedrooms and studies upstairs, while the entryway was furnished exquisitely. Merely waiting for an audience was a more lavish affair than going to a five star establishment.

All of it, and Frisk could care less. Even still, these were all just leftovers from the previous tennet. It has used to be the residence for the High Magus when she was visiting, but an even grander establishment had been built outside the town on a private section of the coast. She ended up with the remains.

 _They even took quite a bit of the furniture, and still we have all of this._ Frisk shook her head. _And the monsters get all of their new things from the garbage..._

"What do you want to eat for dinner tonight, miss?"

Frisk considered for a moment, then sighed. "Honestly I think I would just like to lay down for now."

Rosie's petals rustled. "But you must eat, I bet you haven't even had lunch!" She added quickly, "Miss."

"I'll be fine, thank you." She turned to Papyrus and Sans who were waiting behind her patiently. "I'll see you guys in the morning, Rosie and Posie can help you if there's anything wrong with your rooms." With another short wave, she excused herself and headed up the stairs and to the master bedroom located in the back of the estate.

Papyrus and Sans watched her go. "Mmmmm..." Worried eye sockets looked down to Sans. "Frisk hasn't been feeling very well lately... She never wants to go out with me and she hasn't even tried any of my new spaghetti recipes!" He frowned. "She also doesn't let me into the meetings anymore. She says it's because they're too boring to listen to, but I think it's because of that _General."_

Sans was quiet, small white orbs watching Frisk disappear through a hallway. "Hey." He looked over to the flower monsters. "You got any fries?"

* * *

Frisk placed her hand on the wall, and slowly moved it up. The yellow lights in the master bedroom came on. Eyes wincing, she rotated her palm counter-clockwise. Yellow turned to twilight blue, rippling softly with purple and green. She moved to turn away, then stopped, considering. Going back to the wall, she tapped on it a few times. The glowing stones of Waterfall appeared on her ceiling. She felt her body relax as they slowly brightened into existence one by one. Smiling, she turned to a large television on her wall. She snapped her fingers casually and it flared to life, already turned to the news channel. She began to undress, letting out a very unlady like groan when she unfastened her pants.

"...traffic has returned to normal in the Magus Seven district." The anchorwoman turned to face another camera. "In other news, King Asgore of the monster kingdom known as Newest Home extended an invitation to Metropia citizens inviting them to the Tenth Anniversary of their arrival."

 _Our arrival?_ Frisk unfastened her jacket and hung it over the edge of her bed. _You make it sound like we crashed landed on your planet._

"We spoke to General Hirum Deighton, figurehead of monster relations, about this event."

 _What?_

An older man who had retained his handsome looks from his youth spoke into one of the dozens of microphones pointed in his face. Frisk could tell from the background that they were standing in Magus Seven's elevator lobby. His steel grey eyes seemed unfazed by the amount of attention focused on him. Frisk's jaw hardened as she stared at him; he made her feel like a rabbit, never knowing when the wolf was going to descend upon her.

"It is always interesting to discover how many traditions we share with monster-kind," spoke Hirum. Frisk's eyebrows shot up and she snorted loudly. He was droning out her politically correct statements she repeated like scripture. She crossed her arms, intrigued. "Ten years ago, monsters arrived without no more warning than an observed burst of magic." His face changed, and she knew he was reeling in his anger. "Said burst of magic resulted in an energy crisis lasting two years." He stopped, face unchanging. "I, along with an envoy from the High Magus, will be accompanying Ambassador Dreemurr to this event. We hope to see our citizens there to celebrate ongoing peace."

Frisk looked at the television cynically as he continued to speak about the event. She doubted his intentions and could come up with dozens of other, more likely, reasons why he was going to put himself so deep into monster territory. She would, however, be keeping a close eye on him. It was the only reason why she had agreed for him to accompany her to the party in the first place.

Still, she had to give it to him; what he said instilled a certain amount of hope in her, even if realistically it was to quiet down the ever growing number of activists crying for monster rights.

Speaking of activists, a freeze-frame of a group of angry petitioners appeared next to the anchorwoman's head as she moved to the next segment. Frisk felt herself drain as she read in large letters: 'Monsters: The Moral Dillema.'

"Another petition to overturn the Human Purity Act has failed today. The protests from last weekend regarding the law between human and monster relationships garderned public attention, but was unfortunately not enough to get the signatures required for review. Ambassador Frisk Dreemurr released a statement regarding the petition today."

Video of Frisk from earlier this morning filled up her screen. She was sitting at her desk, hands folded in front of her. The woman on the screen appeared more confident and strong-willed than the girl standing half-dressed in her room. Frisk's shirt remained partly unbuttoned as she watched, unblinking.

"We hear and understand the frustrations of the citizens, monster and human alike, who wish for our worlds to be equal. Particularly, the screening process in the hospitals. This 'screening' is both inhumane and shameful. While we recognize the dangers of human and monster offspring, we also acknowledge that both species deserve a right to love who they want to love. We hope to address this further in the near future as we work with both the political and medical community for a solution. We will have our voices heard."

Frisk watched her own face freeze-frame as it shrunk down to a small box hovering next to the anchorwoman's head. "The Human Purity Act was famously created due to reports of rapidly rising infant mortality rates in the city, linked with relationships between those of monsters and humans. The screening process of the act includes testing of new mothers for cross-contamination. Female humans and monsters found to have half-breed children undergo forced termination of the fetus and are arrested after recovery."

The woman turned to another camera, smiling inappropriately. "Miss Metropia was crowned today, but the ceremony went awry when Mettaton, emcee of the event, went against the judges wishes and crowned himself-"

Frisk snapped her fingers again, and the room plunged back into twilight. She let her hand fall back beside her. Her head was bent forward, her hair shielding her eyes. She stood in silence in the middle of the room, only the faintest tinkle of the crystal lights audible.

 _'...celebrate ongoing peace.'_

She took in a sharp breath, clenching her fists. Spinning on the ball of her foot, she walked into her bathroom and slammed her hands on her counter, leaning over her sink. She breathed through clenched teeth, her white blouse pooled around her arms. She closed her eyes tight.

She felt a hand rest on her back, and her fingers clenched again.

"Sans... I don't think I can keep doing this."

"Don't be stupid, of course you can. You're Frisk the Human, you saved all of Underground. This ain't nothin'."

"Children are dying and people are disappearing because of me, because I can't get anyone to listen to a word of what I have to say. _You're_ the only one that-"

"I brought you fries-"

" _I don't want your fries, Sans!_ " Frisk lashed out, knocking the bowl of french fries off of the counter. Sans caught them with his free hand and set them gently down out of her reach. "You want to know what happened today, Sans? Hmm? Because it was more than _that!_ " She gestured towards her television. "They say that if we don't let them into the Underground, they're going to force them back down. Everyone."

"Eh, that doesn't sound like something they'd do. I always thought humans were all pretty brave, but turns out there aren't too many of 'em out there like you, kid. Anyways, High Magus is on good terms with us. She even asked Toriel for her pie receipie."

"But who has the most influence? Me, a nineteen year old girl with a spaghetti-loving skeleton as a bodyguard, or General Hirum Deighton, hero of Napja and peacekeeper of Metropia? For godsakes Sans, that man has more metal on his chest than Mettaton's closet!"

"Speaking of Mettaton, did you know he's the new Miss Metropia?"

"SANS!" She spun towards him, his hand pulling back quickly. "Everything in this city- the cars, the buildings, televisions, your toaster- it all runs on magic. Everything. It doesn't come from thin air, it comes from complex systems that draw it from the world. And it's not an endless reservoir, it _runs out._ The High Magus is the High Magus because she can divert magical flows away from other sources to here, but there are only so many rivers. They've been doing this since long before the monsters ever went underground." She felt the inside of herself begin to well up. She swallowed hard. "They'll take it all, Sans... They'll use every drop underground for themselves. You know it, I know it. And then... what then?" Her voice cracked. "I mean, monsters- _you_ \- you're all made of magic. What if... what if...?"

Sans was looking away, rubbing the back of his head. Frisk was taking in short breaths, shaking. She was trying so very hard not to cry. It was making him feel awkward, something that he unfortunately noticed happened a lot when it came to being around Frisk as of late.

"You know, kid..." He paused for a second, searching for words. "I think, maybe... you shouldn't overthink these kinds of things. Humans, they're unpredictable. You never know what they're gonna do. Heck, even _I_ couldn't figure out what little Frisk was going to do next as she made her way through the Underground." His eyes darted towards hers briefly. "Not saying I think what you're saying is baloney, because I know jerks, and that Hirum is that and a half. But..." He shrugged. "Like you said. You're a kid. You're also just the ambassador. Your job isn't to stop anyone, it's to make peace. There's gonna be some give and take, ya know? Besides, the King isn't just playing in his garden all day, he is the King for a reason. There's a reason why they haven't gotten into the Underground yet."

Frisk was staring down at her bare feet. The tiles in the bathroom were cold. "Yeah... I know... I just... I want to make sure everyone is safe. I don't..." She looked up at him. Her eyes flickered with fear. " I don't want to lose everyone again."

Sans sighed again. Groaning, he rubbed his forehead. "Don't do that kid, you're gonna kill me with a look like that. C'mon, let's watch a movie." He grabbed onto the bowl. "Let's eat these too, before they get cold. "

"But Sans-!"

He was already walking back into the bedroom. He snapped his fingers and jumped into the bed, disappearing from sight. Frisk stood alone in the bathroom, feeling drained. She turned to the sink, staring at her reflection. Her eyes were puffy from unshed tears, and her bun was coming apart, stray hairs poking about. Her clothes were half-shed, her blouse hanging about her, her plain underclothes peeking out slightly.

She recalled the feeling of Sans's hand on her back. She reached behind her and removed the sign he had tapped there. She looked at it.

 _'Bean-Eating Champion.'_

She smiled softly to herself. Folding it neatly, she placed it into a drawer of accessories and other pranks. She undid her bun, shaking out her thick hair. Removing the rest of her clothes and turning on the sink, she leaned over and splashed water in her face. She looked back at herself.

"You are the Ambassador of the monsters, you are the savior of the Underground. You can do this. This was tasked to you by your father, King of the Monsters. You will find peace. You will find love."

Her face dripped, the small _drop drop_ echoing in the bathroom. The words, she found, were getting harder to believe.

* * *

Sans wasn't sure what was playing on the television now. Some historical western he guessed. The hero of the movie stood over his foe, and his face twisted into his trademark grimace. The skeleton noticed he did that a lot.

The bowl of french fries was empty, minus a pool of ketchup at the bottom with a few remaining fries floating in it. Sans was eating it occasionally with his free hand with a spoon, munching quiet so he didn't wake up the human tucked in tight against him.

The cowboy on the screen put his gun away and the beautiful blonde damsel in the movie rushed towards him, throwing his arms around him. Sans rolled his eyes and took another bite. If these TV's had remotes he would have changed the channel awhile ago, but everything in this city seemed to depend on touching and snapping at everything.

"Come home with me," the woman pleaded. The cowboy brought his hand up to brush his thumb against her cheek.

"I could, darling, I could... We could even build that cottage in that valley you wanted, have a son. I could teach him to shoot just as good as his daddy..." He wiped the tear that fell away from her cheek. "But I have to go."

"Please," she whispered, Sans mouthing along with her, "don't leave."

"I don't belong in your world, darling. You're made from money and happiness, I was made from blood, hardship, and loss. I don't know your world, and I don't know how to live in it. Sure, I might be able to pretend for awhile, but that wouldn't be who I am. I wouldn't know how to make you really happy." He brushed her cheek again. "How you deserve to be happy."

The woman's tears were flowing freely now, but the hero had pulled his hand away. He began to walk back to his horse. "I won't stop loving you!" She shouted, her hand clutching her chest. "I'll keep waiting for you to come back, until I die!"

The man swung up onto his horse, his figure dark, outlined by the setting sun. "If you knew better, darling," he said as he kicked his horse into moving, "you'd forget I ever existed."

The music in the movie began to swell as the hero road away into the sunset. The spoon in Sans's hand was very still. He was staring at the woman who watched her love disappear into the distance. Her dark hair shone like fire in the setting sun. Sans shook his head and blinked. The woman reverted back.

He stared down flabbergasted at the bowl of food in front of him. "That's what I get for eatin' so late at night." He grabbed it and placed it on the antique nightstand next to him.

Frisk groaned and rolled away from him, grabbing at a pillow and holding it close to her. Sans paused for a moment, considering the consequences. Then, out of what was mostly curiosity, he slowly settled down next to her, the only contact being her laying on his arm. He stared at the back of her head.

Toriel, Asgore, Papyrus, and Sans, had all played a roll in raising Frisk. Despite all the hardships Frisk had overcome to leave the Underground alive, she still chose to remain with Toriel in the end. He had only asked her once what had happened to her human family, but it was a short story, resulting in him finding out she had been orphaned at a very young age. The journey up Mount Ebott had been a story shared amonst the children in the orphanage, hence her fall into the Underground.

She spend her earliest years with primarily Toriel. The Queen taught her the basic education that she needed. He and Papyrus would then shuttle the little ambassador back and forth between the two cities. That lasted for a few years until the requirements needed from Frisk forced her to take up residence at the manor next to the embassy. It was here that Sans found himself more and more involved with human affairs, something he wasn't too keen on.

He remained here however, one reason being his brother. Papyrus had fully embraced the human world, whether the human world liked it or not. In fact, he was almost positive his brother was ordering late night calzone delivery at this very moment and posting embarrassingly bad memes on the human internet.

The other reason was, of course, Frisk. After having nearly losing Frisk in the early part of her new career, Sans had taken it upon himself to continue his promise made to Toriel to protect the child. It had become more than that, however. The human, through all of adventures and battles in the Underground, had become his friend. It was more than just a promise, it was a pure desire for her well-being.

He subconsciously was playing with a bit of her hair, rolling it back and forth slowly between his fingers. What she had been speaking about earlier that evening set inside him a murmuring disquiet. Unfortunately, Frisk was very good at being an Ambassador and could see bullshit from the humans miles away. More unfortunate still, this was the human world; Sans's ability to protect Frisk was handicapped to a point that he was beginning to run out of ways to shield her from the worst of it

He began to think of those he had scared off and their intentions. Some wanted to merely push her out of powers, others however, had darker plans.

Sans's hand twitched. He reached for her.

A too-familiar jovial tune piped out of the television. Sans's hand froze.

"What do you want to be when you grow up, Little Jimmy?" said a robust man's voice.

"I want to be a Dad!"

"And what about you, Little Jenny?"

"I want to be a Mommy!"

"And do you know how to do that?" asked the robust voice.

"We marry humans!" replied the children in happy unison! The happy song bumped along. "Hand in hand, we love each other, human and human stay together! We'll raise healthy children, we'll grow big and strong! And we'll keep the monsters, away from our home!"

"Respect our history," said the robust voice, "keep our mothers healthy. Do it for the children."

"Do it for us!" shouted a chorus.

 _Snap!_

The television turned off. Frisk jolted up, hands out in front of her in a fighting gesture. "Wha-?"

"What a boring movie." Sans stretched his arms above his head, yawning. "This human television is a snoozefest." He scratched at his jaw. "That's it for me kid, I'm headed to bed."

Bleary-eyed and hair like a bird's nest, Frisk stared at him for a moment, then closed her eyes. "Okay." She fell over on her side. "G'night Sans. Thanks for the fries," she added with a yawn, pulling the covers back over her.

"Yeah, no problem, kid." Sans was walking over to the door. He turned to look at her one last time. She was already back asleep, her form rising and falling steadily. He stared down at his fingers, rubbing them together. He felt a sense of loss.

Frowning slightly, he teleported away.


	2. Chapter 2

Conviction

An Undertale Story

FemaleFrisk/Sans, post True Pacifist ending

* * *

Chapter Two

* * *

Frisk was sitting at a bar stool in the kitchen, listening to Papyrus prepare breakfast. She yawned heavily, eyes watering. She and Sans had stayed up too late watching movies, and she had woken up too early. She checked her phone for the time, cringed at what she saw, and turned the screen back off. She huddled over her coffee mug, eyes bleary.

"What are your plans today, Frisk?" asked Papyrus over his shoulder, wielding a large knife. "Any meetings we need to go to? Or how about ne'er-do-wells that need correcting?" He brought his knife down with a large smack, making her jump. "Oh, I'm sorry, would you like more coffee?"

"No, thank you Papyrus." She moved her cup instinctively towards her; this particular mug of coffee had been secretly prepared by her. Papyrus's own brew would stop her heart if she tried even a sip. "I'm still nursing the one I have." She turned on her phone again, selecting her planner. "I didn't have anything in particular planned today. Actually, I think my schedule is pretty clear, believe it or not. Maybe I'll call Mom, I might be able to help her out with the festival if she needs it."

Papyrus turned around and clapped his hands together. He was wearing an apron with abs on it. "Do you mean, we journey to Newest Home?!"

Frisk gave him a hopeful smile. "If we can come up with a plan here within the next hour or so, we just might be able to head out there later on this afternoon."

Papyrus let out a giddy trill of laughter. "Well then, let's get you fed and out the door! Voila!" He raised a plate above her head and set it gently down before her. "A fully balanced meal, covering all of the required food groups!"

She stared down before her. The breakfast of champions that Papyrus had prepared included a sprig of broccoli, an apple, rolled up lunch meat, a handful of corn flakes, and a tube of portable yogurt. Where the knife had been involved, she wasn't sure. She picked up the broccoli and put it in her mouth.

"Perfectly prepared, Papyrus. Thank you very much."

He beamed. "You are more than welcome dear Frisk!" He turned around to do the dishes, which he had created a mountain of. Again, she wasn't sure how any of the multitudes of bowls and spatulas had at all been involved. She ripped open the top of the yogurt with her teeth and stuck it in her mouth, freeing up her hands to search through her phone. She held it up to her ear, eating quietly as she listened to the ringing on the other end.

"Hello?" A pleasant woman's voice was on the other end.

"Hi Mom!"

"Well hello my dear child!" She could imagine her mother on the other end, sitting in the breakfast nook, her favorite part of the house. At this hour, she would still be dressed in her robes, likely enjoying a cup of imported tea from the Underground. "How are you? Are you eating well? Staying away from boys?"

"I'm fine, eating great, and I'm married to my work, you know that already Mom. How are things there? Dad doing alright? How's the planning going for the anniversary?" She took another bite of yogurt. Her mother sighed on the other side of the phone.

"Your father is fine, albeit hard to handle as of late. We've been having some trouble with some of the humans in Newest Home, the ones we've let move here. Your father, after everything that happened in Underground, has been reluctant to pass any sort of judgement on these people who have been harassing some of the citizens and poking their noses where they shouldn't be." Frisk knew without asking that Toriel was referring to the door they had erected at the entrance to the Underground. "When I try to talk to him about it, he always laughs it off." Another sigh. "I feel... partially responsible for the way he is acting. As you know, certain... decisions were made by him in response to... well... I was the one who punished him in the first place for his rash response with the first humans that fell. Now I feel as if he's afraid to go too far."

Frisk's yogurt turned sour in her mouth. While her mother had eventually told her the truth of everything that had passed long ago regarding her two children, one born, one adopted, and their fate, Frisk had already accidentally stumbled across their sad story. She recalled the dark laboratory hidden within Alphys's own lab, and the tapes covered in dust sitting next to a long-unused television. The voices she had listened to, she knew almost all. One, however, remained unknown to her. Process of elimination would say that it had belonged to their child named Chara, but the voice had not been human. It had been distorted and too hard to hear, but it had stirred a primal sense in her that warned of danger. She hadn't asked about it before, not wanting her parents to discover what she had found. Maybe she'd ask Sans, though perhaps that would be too inappropriate.

Frisk noticed that Toriel had become very quiet on the other end of the line. She bit her lip, her stomach pulling in regret. "I-I'm sure he'll be fine, Mom. Do you need me to send anyone out there? I've got a few people that can extract any unwelcome citizens."

"No no, that won't be necessary. Undyne does a fine job on her own stepping up where Asgore will not. Either they come to their senses, or they're asked to leave. She can be rather persuasive when the situation calls for it."

Frisk chuckled nervously. "I'm sure. Well if you say it's fine, then I'll leave it up to you guys."

"Well of course! I am not going to have my own daughter be the one to come to her parent's rescue. That is _our_ job. Though if you do want to help me with something, I would appreciate having you get me a few supplies needed for the festival. Between dealing with your father, the children at school, and whatever else duties are required of me, I've managed to fall behind."

"Yeah sure Mom, let me just put you on speakerphone so I can put all of this down." She pulled her phone away, pressing a button on screen. "Hear me?"

"Yes-"

"Hello Mrs. Queen! It is I, Papyrus!" Papyrus had come up behind her and was leaning his whole body over hers, nearly toppling her off her chair. She grabbed onto the counter, holding on for dear life. Frisk struggled to right herself, then shot him a disgruntled glare. He did not notice.

Laughter trickled out of the phone. "Toriel is fine Papyrus. Hello! Are you taking good care of Frisk? How are you liking your job as Assistant Ambassador? The King has had nothing but high hopes for you."

Papyrus beamed like a lighthouse next to her. Frisk refrained from groaning; Papyrus did not need anymore grooming as he fluffed his own feathers just as well on his own.

"Frisk could arm wrestle a whole restaurant after being under my care!" Papyrus's eyes narrowed as he caught another train of thought. "Being Assistant Ambassador is a privilege and a pleasure, but..." He put on a smile, laughing nervously. "Some humans are a little difficult to with. They remind me of puzzles that are too hard to solve. However!" He slammed his fist on the table. Frisk caught both her plate and her phone in the air. She set them down gently, relaxing in relief. "I will solve these puzzles known as humans, and we will look like those cities on the movies where happy music plays right before the credits start! This I swear to you on my honor as Assistant Ambassador!"

Frisk tilted her head up, looking at Papyrus looming over her. His face was set in a determined expression, fixed on the phone. She smiled softly at him, and tapped his arm gently. He looked down at her, surprised. "Oh, my apologies Frisk, I forgot you were there."

"That's alright, Papyrus. I need to make this list now so we can leave." She smiled bigger at him. "Thank you for your help. I'm sure we'll figure out a solution."

He blinked at her again, and then broke out into a vibrant red that covered him head to toe. Monsters, Frisk thought, were strange creatures. "Oh Frisk, you always know how to flatter me!"

"Papyrus."

"Yes, sorry! Goodbye Mrs. Toriel, we will see you soon!" Papyrus turned back to his dishes. She noticed that his motions had taken up an almost prideful flow to them, very similar to the way he looked when she first met him. She shook her head , slid off her bar stool, and left the room to finish her conversation in peace.

* * *

Frisk doubled checked her list. "I think that's everything." She was back in her room, laying stomach down on her bed. She set her phone down on her bed and tucked her head against her arms, staring at the picture of her and her mother that appeared below her mother's phone number. Their call had gone on for longer than an hour now. Her heart began to ache.

"Hey... Mom?"

"Yes dear?"

She hesitated, not wanting to travel too far down the road she had stumbled upon last night. "Did you... watch the human news last night?"

"Mhm," hummed Toriel. "I was waiting for you to bring it up. Are you alright, dear? I know you feel very strongly about that law."

"As I should feel!" belted out Frisk more passionately that she had expected from herself. "Doesn't it make you afraid, Mom? You have humans in Newest Home. Surely a few of them have relationships with some of the monsters. It's inevitable that-"

"I am aware, Frisk. And yes, you are right, we do have a few. We, however, do not have the resources here to assist any mothers that fall into... that situation. We never had the need for 'hospitals' in the Underground, monsters never required them. We're made of magic and recovered from illness or injury through rest or a proper meal." Her mother's voice took on a sad, sympathetic tone. "They all eventually have to retreat back into the city to seek help. I worry for some though. Just the other day, we had a lovely fishwoman leave with her partner towards the city. She had been feeling very sick, and was not getting any better... There are rumors floating around here that say there are some rogue human doctors that are trying to assist our kind. Perhaps she attempted to try to find them because she knew something was wrong."

"Yes, but..." Frisk's heart twisted. "Even if she found someone..."

"I know, dear. There aren't any happy endings yet."

There was a long silence. The ache in her chest was hurting enough to make it hard to breathe. She tucked her face further into her arms, her stomach turning as her emotions began to take hold.

Would she have been able to make the same decision that the woman had made? She could imagine a faceless monster and a human man travelling in the dark. They were in a beaten up car that was barely able to run. In silence they made their way towards Metropia, a city filled with people who hated her and what she was. Through a mere rumor, they had made the decision to leave what was safe, for only a chance. Frisk could feel the chill of the unknown as the monster and her loved struggled to hold onto the hope they so longed for, even though it was fruitless.

The vision changed, and she became the monster, holding onto her stomach. She felt the life inside of her, the one that would never be given a chance to experience the world. The vision changed again, and she was standing in front of the city, a knife in her hand. Her face was streaked with tears, an unbelievable pain in her heart. The city hummed with the magic that ran like blood through it's steel bones, shining so bright that it hurt her eyes. Her mouth opened and she was shouting, but the words never came, lost to the wind. Metropia rippled with response, and then abruptly all of the lights went out at once, plunging the world into darkness.

She breathed heavily, feeling whispers crawl along her skin like slugs. They crept under her clothes and up her neck, through her hair and into her ears, becoming chaotic thoughts and carnal desire, incessant and unending. She dropped to her knees, her eyes staring into the void before her. The shadow that was once the city grew long and wide, towering above her. A rumbling entered her chest and went into her mind, stopping her breath. The shadow grew even bigger until it became the sky. She heard someone calling her name, but she could not move. The shadow opened up, and a mouth made of evil eyes roared. It came down upon her, swallowing her whole.

"Frisk!"

Frisk came back into her body, jolting. She gasped and began to cough, drawing in air like she was starved of it. She sat up and brought a hand to her forehead. It was drenched with sweat. Her whole body trembled. She flexed her hands and clasped them together repeatedly to try and stop the shaking. Distantly, she noticed her mother's voice calling her name. She fumbled for her phone, cradling it in her hands.

"S-sorry mom, I got something caught in my throat. Hey, I need to get started with the day, I'll try to be there later."

"W-wait now! Frisk, I don't think-"

"Love you." She ended the call, the screen going blank. Unable to hold onto it anymore, she dropped the phone next to her and collapsed back onto the bed. She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling her heart beating rapidly.

 _What... had that been?_

A nightmare, to be sure, but to have one during the day, in the middle of a phone call? She turned onto her side and reached for a pillow. She pulled it close to her.

She was suddenly remembering her journey through the Underground, specifically the end. She remembered Asriel, first as a flower with a twisted face, then as a demon whose bitter influence crossed time and space. She remembered being thrown over and over again through realities, only able to settle as she found the souls of her friends and held onto them like a liferaft lost at sea. The chaotic world in her dream had felt too similar to what she had experienced back then. It filled her with a deep sense of dread.

She recalled from earlier the memory of the story of Toriel and Asgore's children. Then, the tapes, full of mystery.

 _Who was that voice... Was it really...?_

She could hear the unknown voice's garbled words just as clearly as if she were sitting in that dusty room listening to them. She replayed them over in her head, again and again, the nonsense of the warped language beginning to make her feel ill. Tentatively, she began to pick at the sentences, deciphering them at face-value. Unable to get any farther than she had previously, she focused in on each part, taking it syllable by syllable.

The room around her faded away as Frisk began to become lost in thought. She mulled over the parts, and when she recognized something within it, she went on to the next part. Each solved piece she connected together, leaving behind her fragments of a whole. She tried to force the fragments into the gaps of missing logic. They snapped into place, fitting into places she did not know existed, but had been there for a very long time. One word, another piece, bit by bit she worked at the murmuring in her mind.

What was unknown was suddenly starting to gain clarity, a song without a tempo acquiring a beat. The song was crooked, and made from an old violin rotten from the inside out. Frisk's hands moved on their own accord, grasping onto the instrument. She held it up to her shoulder, pressed the bow to the strings, and began to play, the jagged notes painfully coming to life, each one an abomination.

As the song went on, she felt her arms no longer become her arms. She tested her strength; nothing happened. She tried to move her feet; she remained in place. Woefully Frisk played, the notes stumbling forward, scratching, and rewinding over itself, warping around her. The song held, even as she began to chill, and her world became smaller. It began to swell and crest, until it reached a peak. A long trill came out, harsh and painful. She instinctively wanted to clap her hands over her ears, but her hand kept the bow to the strings. She held still, waiting for the stranger she knew was watching.

 _Are you... listening?_ Whispered a voice inside her that was not her.

 _For now,_ she responded blankly.

She could feel the presence's surprise dissolve into amusement. It clicked around her, the strings holding her body captive vibrating from an unseen force.

 _Everyone with a Soul has a song inside of them. Do you like my song?_

The sound was repeating the high-pitched wail. She could catch the end of it, but before she could continue onwards, it looped back in on itself, slipping out of her grasp. Frustrated, Frisk tried to drop the song altogether, but it held. She couldn't move her body, her motions still held under the unseen influence. The sound was getting into her thoughts, making her teeth chatter. She felt someone behind her, the tips of fingers brushing against her arms.

She suddenly became angry, and she wrenched her body away. The grasp that was on her broke like dried out vines from a wilting flower. The sound dropped abruptly. Her thoughts went black and quiet, an endless void.

The voice chuckled. _You are strange, and not like the others. You are like me._ A pause. _I would love if you came to visit me again._

 _Who are you?_

A child's laughter echoed in her mind, followed by more empty silence. Frisk held still, waiting.

Lips came to her ear. _"Shhh..."_

She turned to the noise. The face was right next to hers. Brown eyes met with bleeding red. It smiled at her with a grin of tar that split it's face from chin to scalp.

Someone was shaking her. There was a loud noise. She realized it was her own screaming.

"Snap out of it kid!" Frisk choked, drawing in one long breath before she started panting, reality and dream fading in and out from each other. "Not like that, take slower breaths. You're going to pass out at this rate." She heard an even inhale, a short pause, and a slow exhale. "Like that."

She mimicked him, struggling against her desire to take in more air. Her fight-or-flight response was still in high gear, her adrenaline rushing through her body. Unable to move due to the strong arms wrapped around her torso, she could only shake and exist in the place she was slowly beginning to realize was her room. She looked down at the arms through her sweat-covered bangs. They wore blue sleeves. She looked in front of her. Two legs with a matching pair of of feet sat on the bed before her with fresh socks and pristine fuzzy slippers

A trickle of stillness began to fill her, starting from the top of her head and down her spine, spreading throughout her body. The stillness was the realization that Sans had pulled her out of the world she had somehow stumbled into. As it flowed, her muscles began to relax, and her breathing was no longer forced. It pooled in her mind, her racing thoughts slowing. The world came back into full-view.

They were propped up on the backboard of the bed. Her back was pulled tight up against his chest, his arms unmoving bulwarks. Her hands were clasped tightly around his legs. Noticing, she slowly let go, the muscles in her fingers cramped. She splayed them out over his pants and then folded them in her lap. She closed her eyes. The room was cool against her sweat-slicked skin.

"What were you doing," asked Sans. It sounded like an innocent question, but she knew very well that he was angry.

"I had a nightmare."

"Since when do you fall asleep before noon?" His arms remained locked in their position. "What were you doing?"

"I'm telling you the truth, Sans." She was too tired to argue with him. "I was taking to my Mom, started reminiscing a little bit, and fell asleep. I had a nightmare." She shifted in his grasp. "I don't know what else you think I could be up to."

He shrugged around her and they remained in silence. The curtains in Frisk's room were shut, but she could tell by the sliver of light coming from the cracks that it was still early. The eternity that she had been in was, in reality, only a few minutes long. She considered that fact.

"Why didn't you join us for breakfast?"

"I wanted you to test the waters first. I'm glad I did; whatever he's serving I ain't buying after looking at you."

"Oh hah hah." She tried to sit up, but he held on. "Sans, let me go, I told you it was just a dream. I wasn't doing anything."

His grip tightened. Startled, she pressed herself back up against him in response, the top of her head nudging his chin. She thought she felt him curl ever so slightly around her, his legs brushing up against hers. He held her there for a moment, and she let him without complaint, her body too drained to do anything more than lay against him.

"Do you promise?"

The worry in Sans's voice hit her square in the chest. In rapid succession, each moment of that dark world flashed in her mind, ending with a screaming grin echoing in her ears.

She let out a cry that startled the skeleton, making him pull back and stare down at her, stunned into silence. She rolled in his arms, forcing her face into his coat, a long awaited sob shaking her shoulders. He sighed, shaking his head, gently resting his arms around her. He held onto her as she cried quietly, patting her back. It recalled within her moments from long ago, when she had been hurt or scared, but never alone. She poured out her frustrations, her anger, her fear into the fabric of Sans's jacket. It was a long while before her tears stopped.

"I'm sorry I worried you," she mumbled into his chest some time later. They were laying together, she on top of him. She was wrapping and upwrapping a string from his coat around her finger. "I'm not sure what happened. I really do think it was a nightmare, but..." Her eyes opened slowly, afraid to see what was in front of her. "It was the most frightening nightmare I have ever had. It felt... so real. I'm sorry. I really am." She propped herself up to look at him. He was staring up at the ceiling, his finger moving as he counted each star. He stopped when he met her gaze.

"Was it something more, Sans? Is that why you were worried?"

Sans stared at her for a moment, his hand paused in his counting gesture. Then he smiled, propping his head up with his hand. "Nah. You were making a ruckus and you had me convinced you'd had too much to drink."

"Sans, I'm not twenty-one! And it's not even noon!"

"Precisely my point."

She pushed herself up off of him, purposefully adding strength. He let out a wheeze and clapped his hands over his chest. Sans glared at her. Frisk glared back. "If you could so kindly hold a higher opinion of me, I would appreciate it."

"You could start convincing me by maybe keeping on schedule with your own plans. Papyrus can only clean so many plates."

Memory kicked her hard, and she jumped up. She grabbed onto her phone and checked the time. "Ah, shhh- alright, I need to get going." She slid out of bed, stumbling on her feet. Sans was behind her to catch her, righting her slowly. She thanked him, a small voice in her mind pointing out that he had been on the other side of the bed moments before. "Are you coming with?"

"To do chores?" He had his classic expression on his face, hands in his pockets. "Boy, while I really wish I could, I've got plans already. Shame, too. Sounds like fun."

She looked at him dryly. "A 'no' would suffice." She grabbed her coat and purse patting her pockets for her things. Frisk opened her door, but paused. She looked back at Sans who was still standing in the middle of her room, watching her go. She took a hesitant step forward, then committed, walking briskly up to him and hugging him tight. Sans kept his hands in his pockets, but his grin softened into a warm smile as he looked down at her. After a moment, she slowly pulled away, their eyes meeting. She searched his gaze, a questioning smile on her lips. Then she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Gotta go! C'ya later!" She broke away from him, waved him farewell, and ran out into the hallway. "Papyrus, c'mon we need to get going! The bazaar is going to be packed at this rate!"

Sans watched her all the way until she left his sight, and remained where he was until he heard the roar of Papyrus's car coming to life and drive away. The manor became suddenly very quiet, even the maids unheard. He looked around the room, taking in the sights of Frisk's clothes hung over antique furniture, and the light scent that was umistakably hers. Sans paused in his rotation around the room, catching hold of what he was looking for. His smile disappeared, his eyes darkening. He held up a hand, and as if parting a curtain, he brushed it in front of him.

Voices and images garbled and blurred in front of him like an ill-prepared slideshow on a broken television. The air around him crackled, and a long, harsh laughed filled the room. Then, it all echoed away, dirty clothes and pleasant scent returning to normal. Sans tucked his hand back into his pocket, sighing.

"Better get going." He turned around, took a step, and disappeared into a shortcut.


	3. Chapter 3

Conviction: An Undertale Story

FemaleFrisk/Sans, post True Pacifist ending

* * *

Chapter Three

* * *

Frisk was wearing a sunhat with a large brim and large sunglasses. It was an attempt at some anonymity, but with the tall skeleton loudly walking beside her, she might as well have been dressed in neon lights. The people nearest to them in the bazaar stared strangely at them as they passed by, more than a few pointing and murmuring to each other. Frisk noticed and let out a huff, pulling off her hat and stuffing it into her purse. No point in wearing the thing.

"Two dozen apples, a pound of sea snails, a pound of butterscotch, and a sack of flour," repeated Papyrus for the seventh time that day.

"Yes," replied Frisk for the seventh time that day.

Papyrus looked around them. Some of the merchants that they passed were turning away from them, or standing up after having ducked down, parts of their stalls mysteriously empty. His eyes narrowed.

"Hmmm... These people are strangely shy." His face brightened. "They're probably not used to seeing someone so famous as I!"

"They're hiding Underground wares," noted Frisk, knocking Papyrus off his pedestal before it grew too high. "Everyone knows they're not supposed to barter for anything that comes from the Underground. You're only supposed to be able to acquire it in Newest Home or from a licensed seller where it can be tallied and tracked where it went. These people," she gestured to a stall that had closed only a few moments before, "have somehow snuck goods into the bazaar and are trying to sell them." She held up a hand before Papyrus could overreact. "We're not here to report anyone. One, because it's Saturday and I am off duty. Two, because I do not feel well. Three, we are behind schedule and I don't want it to be dark when we go Home. You can take care of this on Monday if you wish, but they will probably not be here for a few more weeks or so after our visit."

Papyrus deflated next to her. His eyes narrowed in disapproval. "You're no fun."

She gave him a smile, shrugging. Then she made her way towards another stall, carefully following the flow of heavy traffic.

The bazaar was located in an older part of the city. While most of the city had been converted and updated to slim, modern, and sleek architecture imbued with magic, this section was still composed of deteriorating buildings made from recycled metals and stone. Powerlines, an archaeic method of energy, were dead and useless, stringing to and from the packed low-income apartments towering the shopping district on both sides. Clothes and shoes strung along these lines with the occasional flag of the monster rights protestors. The air was packed with the murmurs and shouts of hundreds of voices talking over each other, everyone trying to make the best deal to stretch their meager dollars. Uniquely, this part of the city featured items someone wouldn't ever be able to obtain in the city-sanctioned shopping centers everywhere else. This included a much cheaper option for monster goods, despite their illegal status.

Frisk eyed a curio stand. While half of it had bulk trinkets purchased for their sparkle and quantity, not quality, part of the stand housed what appeared to be hand-woven goods. Indeed, the stall owner, a tired looking woman with bent fingers, was quickly and methodically knitting together a scarf. She was leaned back in her chair, watching with an eagle eye the customers browsing her goods, her knitting never ceasing.

Frisk shifted her direction, maneuvering with the movement of the crowd towards the stall. She broke through the center to the edge and stumbled up to the shop, nearly moving headlong into the display of fake jewelery and cheap toys. Frisk laughed nervously, putting up a hand in greeting. The shopkeep gave her a quick look, then went back to her surveillance. Embarassed, Frisk dropped her hand, pulled her hat back out of her purse, and put it back on her head to hide her blush.

She moved over to the handmade goods, looking at everything with a quiet gaze. She ran her hand along one of the pairs of gloves marked down for clearance. They were incredibly soft and very well made, but the weather was turning warmer and they wouldn't be needed for quite some time. She moved her hand over to the reason why she went to the stall in the first place- piles of socks stacked neatly beside each other. They were all equally well made, each one varying in different colors and patterns. She searched through the pile and pulled a pair from near the bottom. They were white with blue stripes, over-sized and sturdily made, intended to be worn on a lazy day indoors.

Though, she thought as she rubbed them between her fingers, their intended recipient would argue they were blue with white stripes and would more than likely wear them wherever he pleased despite appearances.

She noticed Papyrus shuffling behind her; somehow he had managed to find her again after losing her in the crowd more quickly than usual. She wondered how many times she would be looking for her bodyguard during their outing. Frisk smiled to herself softly, rolling the socks inside and out. She checked and double-checked the stitching. It was sound.

"What are we doing here, Frisk?" he asked, confused and obviously annoyed. "There isn't anything here on the list we need. And what are those?" He pointed to the socks in her hands. He looked aghast. "We definitely don't need those! Do not tell me that you have been overcome with the power of distraction!"

Frisk's eyebrow rose, her lips tightening into a straight line. "The amount of hypocrisy in that statement-"

Payrus's head swiveled sharply to the right, his body following immediately after. He let out a cry of delight and leaned over her suddenly. His long arms snatched up a shirt on the wall behind the stall, making the older woman glare at him furiously. He crouched down in front of Frisk and held it up. It was a black t-shirt that had cheaply printed on the front a skull with fire in it's eyes. It said 'Bad to the Bone' in bold letters. He lowered the shirt slowly, revealing his expression. His face was eerily alight like that of the skull pattern.

"What do you think, is this not the highest form of fashion?!"

Frisk stared blankly at the shirt. "Don't you think that's a little.. well, you know..."

"Fabulous?"

"No, I was thinking a little obvious."

"NONSENSE." He stood up to his fullest height. "It would be a travesty if I did not add this to my collection! Good eye Frisk, you know me so well!"

Frisk held up a hand to stop him, but the argument was lost and done. He was positively glowing with his new aquisition. She turned slowly towards the stall owner. She had gotten up at some point and was standing right up against the table, arms crossed. Frisk forced out a laugh and pulled out her wallet. "We'll take the shirt and socks, please..."

After paying the woman, what Frisk thought, too much money, the duo inserted themselves back into the crowd and continued on with their original objective.

"I'd like to try and avoid the sketchier stalls," said Frisk to Papyrus as they walked through the bazaar. "I think M.K's place is open today, we should stop by. I'm sure we'll be able to pick up everything we need there, besides the sea snails. We'll have to go to the fish market for those." She looked up to him, stared at him with exasperation, and held out her hand. "Give it to me."

Papyrus, mid shirt-change, stopped, let out a low grumble, and took his arms out of the sleeves, reluctantly holding it out to her. She took it with a quick thank you, folded it up, and put it in her handbag along with the socks.

"I was going to put it _over_ my uniform, what do you take me for, a harlot? Despite my dashing good looks, I do have a sense of decency!" Papyrus brought a hand up to his chin. "Perhaps I misbalanced your morning meal... You're in a mood today."

"I had a nightmare earlier," explained Frisk apologetically. "It was a bit too vivid for my liking. I think I'll be fine the further along the day goes."

"Nightmares can be scary," nodded Papyrus in agreement. "Sans had been particularly obnoxious one day, from dawn to dusk, and by the time I fell asleep, I dreamt that I could only speak in puns! Let me tell you, it was impossible to try and get help from anyone when they wouldn't stop laughing!" Papyrus sweated from the memory. He tapped it away with a handkerchief Frisk had no idea where he had pulled it from. "What was your dream about, if I may inquire?"

Frisk walked in silence as she recalled the very edges of her memory. The image of her room came up, then the darkness, and then... Even the idea of pulling up what she had seen and heard awoke her primal fears and she stopped the recollection altogether. She shrugged instead, and drifted imperceptibly towards Papyrus.

"Nothing of note. Just a scary face." She laughed out loud. "Seems silly when I say it like that, but it was very scary, believe me!"

"Sounds... _very_ scary," repeated Papyrus in a very disbelieving tone. She noticed and gave him a look, raising an eyebrow. He caught it and laughed sheepishly. Clearing his throat, he held up a finger and walked with sudden purpose. "Well! Just remember my dear Human Frisk, that you should hold no fear, for I, the great and mighty Papyrus, shall always be there to protect you from all threats, real or not!"

She laughed aloud again and looped an arm around his, resting her head against him briefly. "Oh I know, Papyrus. I know."

They continued down the bazaar, occasionally stopping at different stalls to see what they were selling, but as the sun started to climb higher in the sky, they realized how pressed for time they were, and their stops grew shorter and fewer. Their ultimate destination was at the far end of the shopping area where there were a handful of permanent businesses. They had been there long before the monsters had arrived and had once been visited by the middle upper class. That had changed with the rebuilding of the city, and it's fate sealed when the barrier came down. This part of town had been slated to be redone and updated just like the rest of Metropia, but similar to refugees, which techically they were, monsters had moved in and had been forced to the older part of town. The numbers of monsters grew, and the city no longer saw the need to update the timeless district.

To Frisk, however, she saw charm in this area. Of course, seeing the beauty and majesty of the magic and metal that was the rest of Metropia was a respectable sight. This, however, held a different kind of magic. It was real, moreso than anything else that you could find in the city, and genuine. Poor, to be sure, and questionable in areas, but with laws and rules not so strictly enforced here, true desires, thoughts, feelings, emotions- these things were prominent and played themselves on each face of every person that bargained and yelled here. It was like a pinch on the arm after waking from a dream to see if it was real, and it was. It reminded Frisk where she came from, and the basics of what she was. Sometimes, it was healthy to remember that she was different from her family. That particular line was becoming increasingly blurred lately.

The crowd began to break up as they reached the end of the bazaar, and the duo made their way towards the buildings. Their goal was in sight: a narrow brick building sandwiched by two abandoned stores, a general store sign hanging out above the sidewalk. It had a large glass display window covered in iron bars. Inside, she could see a few bodies. One she recognized immediately.

A bell chimed when they opened the door. A yellow lizard monster wearing an apron, work slacks, and a sleeveless striped shirt turned around and smiled at them. Two long, robotic arms stretched out before him in greeting.

"Frisk!" exclaimed the monster boy excitedly. His arms whirred as they shot out, wrapped around her, and with a yelp she found herself pulled into an excited, metal hug.

"N-nice to see you too, M.K," she groaned out with effort, the mechanical limbs hissing from the effort of his love. She tapped weakly on his back. "You win, you can let me go now."

"Oh gosh, sorry!" He released her immediately and Frisk fought the urge to wince. Unconsciously she rolled her shoulder free of it's kinks. M.K jumped as he noticed Frisk's companion. He turned to Papyrus, straightening his back and jutting up his chin, looking as big and tall as he could. He put out a hand. "Mr. Papyrus!" he shouted too loudly, causing a few customers to glance strangely in his direction. "I-It's great to see you too!"

Papyrus, noticing the lizard monster's change of posture, also propped himself to his greatest height. To Frisk, it appeared to be some sort of strange display of domination, but also perhaps a ritual of manliness. But would it be monsterliness? "Mr. M.K, good to see you again!" He grasped his hand and squeezed tight. They stared each other down, a battle of wills. Frisk held her breath, transfixed at the sight.

Eventually M.K faltered, and he broke the handshake, his face turning orange. Frisk suppessed a giggle; maybe next time.

"S-so," stuttered M.K awkwardly, "what brings you to our neck of the woods?"

"Just a bit of day shopping," said Frisk with a smile, looking around the small shop. It had old wood shelves laqured and polished to a shine lining the walls, each stocked with varying goods from both the human and monster worlds, some edible, others not. There were smaller shelves and tables throughout the store displaying the deals of the day. To the left was the main counter, and behind it was an older human man and woman. The woman was talking to a monster customer as she checked them out, and the man was up on a rolling ladder, grabbing a bag of something from up high on the shelf. They both had aprons on matching M.K's. They noticed Frisk, and she waved to them. They waved back, but continued on with their customer service.

"How are things here?" asked Frisk, turning to her friend. "Looks like not much has changed."

"No, not much," agreed M.K. "But it has been nice. We've stayed busy enough to keep afloat, and we get some new faces in here every now and then. Not much of the usual crowd comes by here, though you already know that. Turns out not many people want to buy from an acredited store!" He grinned at her, displaying his sharp teeth. "How's Alphys? I was supposed to stop by her place for a tune-up." He looked down at his arms. They were attatched to him by a backpack that he wore strapped to his torso, keeping them snugly in place. He raised up his hand and clenched it a few times. "These things seem to have a mind of their own lately," he said to her with an exasperated look. "Woke up to one trying to go through my dresser. I think it has dreams of travelling."

"She's fine, though I haven't talked to her in awhile. She's been pretty busy with Undyne I think. Actually, we'll be seeing her probably later this evening or tomorrow. We're supposed to drop off a few things for the Queen, that's why we're here today."

"Oh! Let me guess, it's for the festival, right?" He gazed out the barred window, crossing his arms in contemplation. "I don't get too many days off. Between working here and at the coffee stand, I've barely got time to sleep. It can really make for a pretty lonely life, ya know?" M.K's face lit up with excitement. "Somehow though, I managed to free up that day and I'll be able to make it! I can't wait to see everyone again, it feels like it's been forever since I've been Home."

Seeing the lizard monster's clear enthusiasm dancing across his face struck a chord within her. That tone turned into an ache that reminded her that she dearly missed her family. Her obligations to her work, and to the monster population, had left her bereft of the love and warmth that came from being at home wtih her Mom and Dad. She missed the clean smell of her mother's breakfast nook, wandering her father's perfectly manicured garden, enjoying homemade pie, and telling silly stories that had unbelievable endings. She had her maids, Papyrus, and Sans at home to keep her company, but despite how much she cared for them, they couldn't truly fit the space that only her parents could fill.

Frisk nodded to M.K, swallowing a lump that had formed in her throat. "Me too, M.K," said Frisk, forcing herself to smile. "Me too."

Her friend seemed to notice that something had changed in the young ambasador's demeanor, and he quickly changed the subject, holding out his arms wide. "Well! How can I help you today, Frisk? Tell me what you need, and I'll get it! I don't want you to be late for dinner, after all! I hear the Queen's cooking is not to be missed."

Frisk giggled and nodded briskly with agreement. "You hear right! Now, let's see... We need-"

Frisk's skeleton companion inserted himself between the two, winding up his arm to hold up one powerful finger. "Two dozen apples! A pound of sea snails! A pound of butterscotch! Last but not least, a sack of flour!" Papyrus's interjections were delivered with such ferocity that they made both teenagers reel. "But of course," finished the skeleton with an all-knowing tone, "we cannot get the snails here, so we shall go to the fish market."

"Yes," murmured Frisk dryly after a pause, dismissing his prideful disposition, "thank you, Papyrus." She smiled at M.K apologetically. "Well? Think you can help us?"

"I think," said an aged voice behind them, "we'd be happy to help with your order, Ms. Dreemurr."

The older man had come out from behind the counter, rubbing his worn and bent hands on his apron. He was balding, but sported a full white mustache and wire spectacles. His eyes were wrinkled, but light and kind. He gave her a friendly smile. "Frisk, so good to see you again. And you too, Papyrus," added the man, patting the tall skeleton on his back.

"George," greeted Frisk in kind, reaching out and giving him a hug. "It's been too long. Sorry we haven't been in lately. I've been so busy with all sorts of projects."

"Ten minutes watching the evening news, and I can already tell it would take a day and a half to hear all the work you've been up too." He chuckled to himself. "I'll stick to running the store here with Marie and M.K here, thank you." He looked over to his young employee. "Well then, M.K! What are we rounding up for our customers here today?"

M.K told George what they were after and determined that the bulk of what they wanted was out on the shelves. "The caramels, however," noted George, "we're fresh out. But, Marie just happened to make a batch of them the other day for a few friends of ours. She likes to make a bunch to give out, and then melts them down later for popcorn to sell at the fair. M.K, can you take these two to the back and get them sorted out while I grab the rest of their things?"

"Sure thing, sir!" The monster boy beckoned to them with a whir of his robotic hand. "C'mon, before it gets too busy."

The group made their way to the end of the store, excusing themselves through the small crowd of people shopping. Frisk never explained why she loved this store so much, but it was because of how integrated the patrons were. Every time, without fail, humans and monsters, regulars of this small obscure store, talked and joked and interacted together without any hesitation. The social barriers that existed outside these walls were broken down and all together gone the moment they stepped across the theshold. It was strange, but pleasant, to know that something as simple as grocery shopping could bring two radically different races together, and it was all due to the endless compassion and love of life that George and Marie held for all people.

While she appreciated and cherished the harmony that existed here, it did not ellict from her the faith that one might expect from a breakthrough. In fact, this was far from it, unfortunately. It was too small of a space, and it was a very particular part of the population. This in itself took years to grow, and it was just a mere sprout in a desert. It overwhelmed her if she began to think too hard about the position she was in, and the goals that were given to her. How many years would it take to grow that sprout into a forest? Could it survive the harsh environment that was the world? What she would give to find out those answers.

She nearly stumbled into M.K's back as they came to a stop before the door. Her skeleton companion caught her before the lizard monster noticed. What would be Papyrus's eyebrow rose, and she flushed slightly, waving her hand dismissively at him. She collected herself as M.K unlocked the door and stepped inside, holding it open for the others.

They walked into a kitchen that seemed to be frozen in the past. The appliances were not those that were designed to run on magic, but ones that used electricity as fuel. There was a dining room table to the left, and the remainder of the kitchen on the right with a pantry door shut and a calendar hanging above. A window was over the sink, and while Frisk could tell that the sun was out, her view was obscured by a brick wall that was the back alley where they could pick up their deliveries. Fresh herb plants were sitting in the window, well taken care of and enjoying the daylight. All the way to the left, past the dining room table, she could see a couch and a few recliners with a television that was turned off and sitting on an oak stand against the wall. Barely, she spotted the railings of stairs that climbed up to the second story of the building to where she assumed were the bedrooms and bathroom. The whole sight was brought together by different pictures, knick knacks, heirlooms, and the faint notes of a wind chime that made the feeling of homesickness ache within Frisk even more.

"Now let's see," murmured M.K to himself, tapping on his chin with one long, stubby finger. "If I were a bag of caramels, where would I be..." He turned around in the kitchen, looking up and down, clicking to himself. Then, he stopped, face lightening. "Ah, I bet you it's in the cellar. Hey, you two can go ahead and take a seat there at the table, I'll be right back." He reached next to the refrigerator and opened up a door that Frisk didn't notice the first time. From what she could see, only part of the wall had actual plaster, the other part was stone and dirt that was dug out to make the passage. "Try not to touch anything!" he added with what Frisk thought was too nervous a laugh. Then, with the slightest hesitation, he slipped down the stairs. A light clicked on as his steps went further down, until Papyrus and Frisk were left in silence.

Papyrus pulled out a chair and obediently took a seat, though he did it grudgingly. "This is not how I expected our outing to go," he told Frisk, miffed. "What time is it anyways?"

Frisk checked her phone. "It's a little past three, we're pushing it for time." She bit her lip. She wasn't keen on the idea of travelling in the dark, and even if they did, she wanted to spend a little more time with her mother before it got too late. She considered her options, weighing the outcomes, and then came to a decision. Nodding to herself, she pocketed her phone and began to look around the kitchen.

"What are you doing!" exclaimed Papyrus as he jumped to his feet. "We were told to not touch anything, and even though it is Mr. M.K that is telling us that, I am sure that George and Marie are the ones that told him to tell us to not touch their things!"

"Relax Papyrus, I'm just trying to help M.K find the caramels. Besides," she said, opening a cupboard door, checking inside, and shutting it softly, "there shouldn't be anything of consequence in the kitchen. We'll restrict ourselves to this area and we shouldn't intrude on their privacy."

Papyrus regarded her cynically, but as Frisk struggled with an up-high cabinet door, he relented with a sigh and walked over to her, reluctantly opening it up for her. "I really must have made your breakfast all wrong," he said woefully to himself, as if she were his child that had lost all hope. "Or perhaps it's because you and Sans stay up too late and eat too many bad snacks together. Those are not good for your brain, Frisk! You need more legumes!"

"Our snacks are not that frequent, and I am not a lost cause, despite your demeanor," she teased, rocking off her tiptoes to the heels of her feet. "There's nothing in this one, let's keep looking."

"I am assisting you only as much as you require, not any further! I shant not be apart of your mischevous games!" He crossed his arms in a huff as if to punctuate this statement.

"Games?" giggled Frisk, checking another cupboard. "Papyrus, I think today it's you that has won the Uptight Award, and I'm usually the one that goes home with the gold."

They searched the remainder of the kitchen, pulling open silverware drawers, opening up old tin containers, sorting through dishtowels and carefully navigating around fine china. Each location yielded no results. Additionally, M.K had yet to come back upstairs; what should have been an easy pick-up was turning into a scavenger hunt that Frisk was not in the mood to participate in.

She shut the cabinet she was looking in and turned around in the kitchen, similarly to what M. K had done. One last effort, one more try. She pulled from within her the drying well of perseverance. She tapped intently at her mouth, staring. "Where oh where..." She looked over to the pantry. With renewed hope, she walked over to it and opened it up. Lined with canned goods, sacks and satchels of dried goods, jars of the aforementioned legumes and beans, but no caramels.

Frisk stared dejectedly at the dark, dusty closet. "Not here either..."

Sans walked up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder. "There is nowhere else of importance that we should check, Frisk. It would be best that we remain patient. I would not worry about the Queen, we will get there eventually." He pat her jovially and turned back to the table. "Now then, let us return to our seats! We could make a game of it... Who can sit the longest? I've gotten second place every single time I've played, though I admit playing against Sans is a fight that cannot be won."

She sighed, turning away. "At this rate, Mom will-"

A light caught the corner of her eye. She blinked, for a moment thinking it was something floating in her vision. She looked again, confused. It was just the pantry, nothing out of the ordinary, just food and cleaning supplies. Then, before she dismissed it altogether, she spotted it. It was faint, but there: a straight, even, sliver of light that ran from corner to corner on the bottom end of the back wall of the pantry. She stared at it for a moment, confused. She waved her hands about her, but the light did not change. It's source was coming from behind the wall. Though, for all intents and purposes, there should be nothing but stone and plumbing behind this pantry.

She heard footsteps behind her. "Frisk, what on earth are you-"

"Shh." She held up a finger sharply. She held there in silence, listening. She watched the light, unblinking, unmoving. They held there for what seemed like ages. Papyrus began to lose his patience again, and he shifted, ready to complain.

Frisk sucked in a breath. There, a shadow. It moved across the light, appearing and disappearing so fast, one could argue it to be a trick of the eyes. To Frisk, however, it caused the cogs in her mind to start spinning at such a speed that nearly made her dizzy. She reached blindly behind her, grabbing the front of Papyrus's shirt. She moved to him, dazed from adrenaline. "Papyrus, I think there's someone beh-"

She heard a latch click, and Frisk turned around quick enough to see a nameless man dressed in suspenders and a white dress shirt with his sleeves rolled to his elbows. He adjusted his glasses before stepping out of the door that was once a wall of dried goods. As he turned and faced them during his exit, his eyes met with Frisk's, causing him to falter. At first, he appeared to be just mildly surprised, as if meeting someone within a shopkeeper's pantry was a day to day experience. As realization kicked in however, his spectacled eyes widened and the blood drained from his face. Both parties held there, everyone too stunned at the situation that they had unfortunately found themselves to be in, as if the real world had been stripped away and this strange unreality had kicked in and presented itself to them with a scenario made up of chaos and ill intentions.

The man spoke first, if what he said could be considered speaking.

"M-Ms. Dreemurr!" blurted out the young man, backing up into the now shut secret door, causing the nearby jars to wiggle on the shelves. "What are you doing here?"

Frisk, too stunned to reply at first, regarded him with disbelief. "What am _I_ doing here?" she asked increduously, looking around her to confirm that, in fact, they were still standing in the kitchen. "May I ask who _you_ are and what _you_ are doing here, because honestly I do not think you are in a position to be asking me too many questions, Mr...?"

The unknown man must have sensed that the conversation was rapidly taking a turn for the worse, and he held up his hands in defense. "Wait, no- I'm not- I'm not a bad person, I'm a doctor, I'm here to help, and George and Marie both know-"

"Wait a moment, George and Marie _know_ about this?" The series of events that were rapidly unfolding were making her more and more dizzy with disbelief, and it was accumulating to a point where it was no longer unbelievable, but rather incredibly irritating. "What exactly is it that they know about, besides the fact that there is a hidden doorway within their pantry to who-knows-where, though I would bet all the money in my pocket that you know _exactly_ where it leads to and you _will_ show me what it is!" She took a breath, and then added vehemetly, "And your name, please!"

"If you could just-"

"She has asked you for your name, sir!" Papyrus exclaimed forcefully, leaning over Frisk and staring the human down. "It is clear you know hers. It is only polite you share yours as well!"

The spectacled man found himself back up into the wall again, though this time the door moved and he nearly fell backwards as it swung open. "Doctor," whispered a young, feminine voice, "is everything-?"

A half of a face revealed itself in the crack of the door. It was a youthful face, framed with golden curls. Long blonde lashes blinked over cloudy blue eyes that were rimmed with red and shadowed from lack of sleep. She was pale, and quickly became more so when she realized that there were others present that were not the usual company. The shock of that realization caused her to lose her grip on the door, and it swung open fully.

The open passage revealed a small, lowly lit room with a desk and two thin cots. An old wash sink was tucked into the corner, a foggy mirror and yellow light latched onto the deteriorating wall. There was a metal tray on a nearby stand with what appeared to be a collection of medical supplies. Dirty gauze was stacked up on the tray in a pile. Even in the dark, there was clearly blood staining one of the beds.

On the other empty cot sat a large wolf monster. He turned his face sharply to face them, rising to a height that should not have been able to fit into the small space. The absolute sight of him was shrouded in shadow, but his large golden eyes shone like firelights in the darkness. A low snarl rumbled across the room.

Stunned, Frisk looked from the woman, to the doctor, to the cots, to the monster, and back to the woman who was trembling in a large oversized dressing gown. Tears coated her eyes and streamed down her face. Her legs trembled, and her knees knocked together. "Please..." she whispered to Frisk, the full force of her sorrow hitting her square in the chest and chilling her to her core. "Please don't take me. I... can't lose anymore..."

The woman's face lost it's expression and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She slipped and Frisk cried out, lunging for her. Instead, she ran headlong into the furry biceps of the wolf. Her head shot up, her ears buzzing with fear. A large snout came down above her, saliva dripping from his teeth. Frisk sucked in a breath, a shiver running from the base of her spine up to the top of her head. Unable to move properly, she could only manage to fall backwards as the monster regarded her coldly. She shuffled backwards, sliding into Papyrus with enough force to nearly knock him down. Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath. All eyes were on the beast.

"Leave," he growled, his tone allowing no room for argument.

"N-now James," stuttered the man, his hands coming up in a pleading gesture, "we haven't even explained ourselves to them yet. Ms. Dreemurr is an advocate for our rights, we don't need-"

"LEAVE!" he roared, shaking the walls, causing jars to fall off the shelves and crash to the ground. He took two steps out towards them, his large paws crashing against the old floor. The doctor was pushed against one wall, the shelves in the pantry now almost all empty, it's contents spilled and destroyed on the floor. The wolf swung with his left arm and violently lashed out at Papyrus, throwing him into the cellar door. Papyrus let out a gasp and hunched against the wood, wincing.

Frisk scrambled to her feet, nearly missing a clawed hand that was rushing down to knock her into the sink. "Stand down, sir! I am Ambassador Frisk Dreemurr of Newest Home, there is no need for-"

Another swing, this one meeting true. The back of his arm connected with Frisk's side, the momentum tossing her against the dinning room table like a doll made of straw. The breath in her body caught up to her and she gasped, coughing harshly. The sweat on her brow was as cold as the feeling in her heart; why on earth was this Underground citizen attacking her? Monsters were inherently passive creatures, fighting only if provoked. Repeatedly, this wolf known as James had been told they were not here to hurt, what she assumed, his female companion. Surely he also knew who Frisk was and what exactly her whole purpose for living had become. Had he become so blinded by fear that all reason had left him? Was this what was truly happening with their kind?

She felt two supportive hands come around her. "Frisk, are you alright? I've never seen James like this before, it's like he's gone mad!" Papyrus bent down to her, looked her over quickly, and gave her a stern look. "Stay here, I'm going to talk to him. He needs a good dose of reason!"

Frisk clenched at the table, watching with a hard stare as Papyrus charged over to the wolf, defiantly standing before him, unflincing at his rage. The doctor had also come out of the pantry and tried to talk to James again, though she knew his words were falling on deaf ears. The two had only managed to distract him enough that his rage turned onto them instead. The sight of him blindly lashing out at the poor doctor that was so clearly putting so much of his life on the line for this star-crossed couple stirred within her an untapped emotion.

 _Ungrateful,_ said a voice, a whisper that harmonized with her soul. _One may even say... pointless. Why work so hard to protect something that does not deserve to be protected...?_

Frisk shook her head. No... that was true. She took a step towards the commotion, wincing at the pain in her side. She collapsed against the kitchen counter, holding herself up with shaking effort. There was something wrong with James. She had to calm him down before this escalated any further. What would happen if this situation left the safety of this kitchen? What would happen if the wrong person found out that a monster had attacked the ambassador herself...?

 _You could remove him,_ said the voice. _It would be very easy. Much easier than trying to make peace with a beast whose serenity has been stolen from him. Surely you realize that without a light, there is only darkness?_

The wolf turned on her again, eyes blazing. Papyrus and the doctor stared at the wolf, and then to Frisk, alarm stricken across their faces. Frisk's eyes caught with the wolf's, and her whole body shivered. The light that was within all monster hearts was not there. His soul was dim, and his mind was altered. There was something deeply wrong with James, and nothing that she could say would snap him out of it.

 _You've done it before, in another time,_ said the voice, seductive and enticing. _Many times, even. It was for the best. They would not stop coming for us._

The monster's teeth were large and white, his arms massive and his claws huge. He towered above her, a shadow that would blot her out completely. Those yellow eyes stared at her, glistening with an emotion that Frisk could no longer pick out as she tumbled down into the darkness inside herself.

Something old and unharness clicked within Frisk, like the dust being blown off of an old gun. The wolf was yelling at her even further, but whatever he was screaming, it was silent in this state she found herself in. Like reenacting a memory, she moved without knowing where or how, but it was with a knowing that had an end. Within her hands she felt something so familiar- a shining light that was a bitter laugh between her fingers. Her world narrowed, reflected against the blade in her hand. The spotlight was on him, but he was small compared to her and her purpose. Her grip tightened- she knew where to strike, she has done it before, dozens, hundreds, thousands- he was just one obstacle, easily dispatched, one more tally in her book, easy, so _easy-_

"Frisk!"

M.K's voice sucked her back to reality. The kitchen knife in her hand dropped to the floor with a clutter. She blinked, startled at the suddenness of her situation. She looked quickly around her. A drawer was on the ground, utensils sprawled everywhere. The young woman had come out of the room, standing in front of James, hugging him tightly and telling him to stop between sobs. Papyrus was talking down the wolf, telling him about how much he enjoyed having lunch with his cousin, and that maybe they should have lunch together too. George and Marie were standing in the kitchen now too, George staring up at the ceiling with a stressed expression. Marie's eyes were misting as she looked at Frisk, her apron knotted up in her fingers.

Dazed, Frisk's eyes drifted to M.K's. Her friend approached her slowly, his hands hesitantly reaching out to her. She turned to him, confused. Then, she looked down at her hands. She flexed her fingers. Empty. She looked up at him again.

 _Maybe,_ said a small voice, this one hers and almost too far away, _you should pretend, if only for a little while._

"Yes..." said Frisk aloud, nodding to herself. M.K regarded her with confusion.

"Yes...?"

Frisk looked back up at him. She was empty. "Yes. What is this?" She looked to the couple. "George, Marie... You need to explain yourselves. What is this?"

"Frisk, please," pleaded Marie gently, shuffling over to her and placing a hand on her arm. "There is so much we need to tell you, but there is a bit of cleaning up that we need to do first. Let us close the shop and get these two back into bed to rest, and then we will be more than willing to let you know what is going on."

Frisk stared at Marie's pleading expression, and then trained her eyes on the rest of the scene. James was calmed down now, and did not appear to be much of a threat. In fact, he seemed to have just finished crying, his big paws wiping away tears. The doctor was supporting the woman, guiding her into a chair that he had grabbed from the table. Papyrus was looking at her, analyzing her. Pleased, he held up a thumb. _Good job_.

It was an acceptable state.

"Alright," agreed Frisk. "We'll clean up, and then you'll tell me everything."


	4. Chapter 4

Conviction: An Undertale Story

FemaleFrisk/Sans, post True Pacifist ending

* * *

Chapter Four

* * *

Frisk was sitting in the back of the corvette with a bag of caramels in her lap, the top down. They were driving along a stretch of empty road that ran alongside the ocean, their only companions the the forest beside them, the birds above, and the sea. It glimmered like a pool of molten glass, the sounds of waves crashing against the high cliff they were upon. The sun was a deep orange, hanging low in the sky, turning the streaks of clouds the faintest hue of pink. She stared at it, her elbow propped up on the door, her chin tucked into her hand. Her hair whipped around her face, the wind almost cold, but still nice enough to enjoy with a light jacket.

Her mind was silent, trying to trace the patterns of the seagulls that flew in the distance, but as they flew away, their scavenging complete, so too did her concentration. The wind took their flight in sporadic directions, each thought of Frisk's helplessly trailing along in a reluctant shuffle. The memories of the shop started bubbling up again, anxiety on it's heels. Screwing her eyes shut, she pinched her brow. willing the headache born from her stress away.

Finding her calm center again within the darkness, she took in a deep breath, smelling the salty air and the fresh breeze carrying the life and earthiness of the forest. She let it out slowly, letting herself sink into the car seat. In a desire to find some joy in the remainder of her day, she slipped a hand into her purse, rustling around. As she pulled back, a plastic wrapped caramel settled gently between her fingers. Taking in another calming breath, she continued her stare as they drove towards Newest Home, the sound of crinkled cellophane barely heard under the hum of the engine of the car.

It was long past the time they were supposed to be home, Papyrus and Frisk having spent the better part of their day sitting in George and Marie's kitchen after it had been cleaned up and the shop closed early for the day. Frisk recalled the long conversation, opening up the homemade candy and putting it into her mouth, chewing slowly.

* * *

 _"It was my fault to begin with," started M.K, hanging his head dejectedly. They were all sitting in the living room, each one holding a cup of tea that Marie had freshly put together. The room smelled of peppermint and chamomile. Fitting. "One of my friends back home had found out where I worked and he had come up to me asking for a place where he could bring his sister. This was when word was getting around about how dangerous it could be for a monster to... you know... and I mean, I was just fifteen at the time, I didn't know what to do. The only people that I knew to ask for help was you Frisk- but you were super busy at the time- and Marie and George here. So, freaked out, I brought them here." He rubbed the back of his head. "Though, in hindsight, I should have known better... what were Marie and George going to do for Daisy, y'know?"_

 _"But it was quite alright with us," assured Marie, patting M.K on his lap. "This wasn't the first time we've had a few friends of ours come over for some help, though I admit it usually wasn't for more than to use our guest bedroom. We did, however, happen to know Hector here, a true friend of ours that we knew was sympathetic to the monsters and that we trusted implicitly."_

 _The doctor who's name was Hector adjusted his glasses. He let out a sigh, eyes dark. He was tired, and his story was a long one. "I had been making house calls outside of my job at the clinic for very specific cases for your people. When the Human Purity Act came to realization, I knew that what I would have to do would change. No doctor would risk their license to unlawfully assist any patient whose situations fell under that umbrella. However, I had completed a rotation at the ob/gyn unit at the hospital and I was confident that I would be able to do what no other provider would do for those who were the most in need." He held his cup, smiling grimly. "However, what was required of me needed a permanent base of operation, which I had none. Then, I received the call from Marie and George here about their friend. I came over, and they showed me a small space that was once utilized to smuggle in outlawed goods back before there was even the idea of technology. I would be able to set up a base of operation for my patients, and M.K's friend would get the care she needed."_

 _Frisk regarded the doctor passively, lips pursed. "So... Doctor...?"_

 _"Just Hector is fine."_

 _"Alright, Hector. Is what you do purely abo-"_

 _"No." He cut her off quickly. "I manage all care for monsters for multiple indications, but yes, I do also terminate pregnancies that threaten the lives of the mothers. If I do not do it, they will either go to a hospital and be arrested, or die."_

 _He stared at her with a hard gaze, his willpower palpable. On it's own, the subject at hand was a difficult one to approach, even on normal terms. However, the man before her, a new face that knew her too well, was making a strong effort to prove himself more than a hackshop in the dark. What he was doing was dangerous, risky, and honestly stupid. It was catering to a problem that needed more resources, more time… But if he did not do it, who would? Certainly not the people she worked for. Their brainwashing commercials playing after Saturday Morning Cartoons made that abundantly clear. But she could not approve of this, it was too dangerous. Yet she couldn't hate him. Someone had to step in and take up the mantle, outlawed as it was._

 _He continued to stare at her, unwavered in his resolve. She stared down into her cup, running her thumb along it's rim. Within the reflection of her tea, she saw a tired face staring back. Much like the doctor's, she noted. And how tired she was, with all the fighting and the stress and the constant threat of greed looming within the eyes of that horrible General. Every day was another battle, another meeting where no amount of logic or reason would sway centuries of tradition and power. If the future was a powerful river, they were a cold dam, unceremoniously dropped into the path of what the world was trying to create. The whole land behind them could be on fire, and they'd rather watch it all burn if it meant they could carve out a monument of dead land in their visage._

 _She laughed airly, startling the room. She couldn't help but feel comradery with this backdoor doctor._

 _"Alright. Then what is the case with James and Abigail here then? Are all of your patients so violent? Answer truthfully, because this is the first time I have seen a monster citizen so blatantly out of control and I need to know if there is something greater happening here."_

 _The four looked at each other, silent conversation passing between them. George scratched the top of his head, tsking. "Well," he started reluctantly, "you know just as well as I do that monsters are not the kind of people who get into trouble. I'd argue that we humans are more of a hassle than anything." He lowered his age-spotted hand. "But... I'll admit... These past few months we've had a few problems with some of the patients Hector's seen. Stressed out, agitated, even a bit physical, as you've seen unfortunately."_

 _"I'm not a psychologist," said Hector, "but to me, it feels like the patients I have seen have been under an incredible amount of stress." He regarded her carefully, choosing his words with precision. "This... world. I understand you wish to remain here, but... It is very different from yours. From what I have been told, the Underground was a place of peace." He laughed bitterly, running his hand over his eyes. "Humans... we're not peaceful. We're greedy, and we all compete against each other to see who can have the most power, and live the longest. We'll even drop bombs on each other to further that end."_

 _The room fell into silence. Frisk took a sip from her tea, breathing in the hot, calming air. This was a subject that had come up time and time again. Still, the memories came, and the cozy room that they were supposed to be in became a cold boardroom. Wrinkled, shadowed faces sat motionless in long rows, their eyes hidden, but fully upon her. Frisk held onto her cup as she stared back, her lips drawn tight. She would not speak, it would be a waste of breath. They refused to listen, her words those of a hormone driven teenager. She was a joke that they entertained at the delight of the King of Monsters, and she would remain there until whatever they had planned snapped shut around the unsuspecting population of the underground._

 _Frisk blinked, and she was back. It had been only a second, and Hector had sat back into his chair, holding onto his own cup, waiting for her response. She breathed in the tea again, leaning on it's calming properties. "I am aware of these concerns," said Frisk, still looking down at the saucer in her hands. "However, monsters have lived on the surface before, even when there was war. Though, I do admit, it was a very long time ago." She observed the doctor quietly, watching for the slightest hints of reaction. "I do not feel that it would be impossible for monsters and humans to coexist. If anything, we may even improve when we're within each other's company. We can bring to the table what the other was missing."_

 _"So you say," replied Hector, his tone growing tense, "that monsters, after living centuries underground, can come up to the surface and live amongst us peacefully? That with enough time we will mesh regardless of our tremendous differences?"_

 _"That is the exact opposite of what I am saying," cut Frisk sharply, brokering no argument. "What I am saying is that despite the nature of humans, monsters can reside in the same place. They are not without impurities, I have witnessed that first hand. Yes, they are much more passive that humans and would prefer not to fight, but to say that they would be crushed in this place?"_

 _She held the conversation there, the air tense. The adults were staring at her, M.K too uncomfortable to do anything but fiddle with his fingers. Papyrus, unfazed, was eating multiple scones from the coffee table, having been overexposed to Frisk's meetings and how quickly she could turn a casual get together into a stone cold decision that would not be budged._

 _Frisk relaxed, releasing the others from her invisible grasp. Their sighs of relief could be easily mistaken for a draft. "This will take time, as I have said again and again. However, I am deeply interested in the changes that the monsters will go through as they are faced with the realities of this world. Are they any different from a human carrying a weapon? I would argue no. But to a human, faced with this new, frightening aspect, how would they react? Would they target one guilty individual and impart justice when it's due? Or would they make that one bad seed the avatar for the entire race and act? History dictates that it would be the latter."_

 _The doctor leaned back into his chair, tilting his head over slightly to look into the kitchen. The pantry door was shut, the two inside settled and put back to sleep. "I will continue my work," he said with a finality to his words. "They will need me, until a cure can be found. I will do my part to buy us time..." He looked over to Frisk, and she met his gaze. The passion in his eyes was infectious, causing Frisk to rise slightly out of her chair to match him. "You must find a cure. I am sure that once we can end this pain, we will be so much closer to harmony. We need to bind our two races together."_

 _He grinned suddenly, his tired face suddenly turning young and handsome. The happiness was almost too bright for her heart, after all the darkness that had been within her as of late. She stared at him, turning to his smile like a flower to the sun. "Pardon this fantasy," he said, almost bashful, "but if anything should bring us together, it's the children of our future born of love."_

 _Frisk recalled the newscast from the other night, and how she had found herself in despair. She remembered Sans, and how he pulled her from the sorrow and renewed within her the hope that was the flame that needed to continue to burn. His easy grin lit up within her, warming her as he had done within her bed, holding onto her when she forgot who she was._

 _To bind our two races..._

 _"Alright." Frisk stood up. "I shall continue with my work, and make an extra effort to figure out what exactly is happening to these unborn children. In the meantime, I expect that you continue to do what you are doing, but you must be cautious. If you ever come across a patient that grows overly violent, or you sense that there may be something more going on , you must let me know. And be very careful- word is getting out that there are doctors that are assisting monsters. Eventually you will not be able to hide, and I expect you to be long gone before any harm comes to George and Marie." She watched Hector slowly get to his feet, coming up to her. "I cannot help you any further than this. It will put all of my work at too much risk. You must continue to do this alone, without reward or recognition. This you must do to give us what we need the most: Time."_

 _She held out her hand, the determination in her eyes overpowering and unrelenting. It invoked within Hector the willpower to do anything that he believed in- and this was a cause he would put his life's work into. His hand came into hers, and they grasped each other, shaking firmly._

 _"I'll be here, Ms. Dreemurr," he said, his eyes fixed on hers. "Fight them, Frisk. This is not just the human's world- it's everyone's."_

* * *

Frisk swallowed the last bit of caramel in her mouth. The bag was short a few candies from when they first got it. The sun was further down in the sky now, the sky a deep orange and vibrant pink. She watched the ocean again, following the waves as they crested and fell.

"Hey, Papyrus."

"Mmm?" He kept his eyes on the road. "What is is Frisk?"

"Can you pull off to the side here? I want to stop for a bit and watch the sunset."

He let out a long hum. "If we do that Frisk," warned Papyrus, "we won't get Home until nightfall. We spent too much time at George's, and then even more time at the fish market. I do not like driving in the dark, I don't like the way those deer jump out and throw themselves at cars. There is nothing but misfortune to be found in a creature who would willingly go head-first into a high speed vehicle!"

"Please, Papyrus?" Frisk tried to sound more excited than what she felt, but it ended up coming out as an exhausted plea. "The weather is nice and the sky is quite beautiful and... I would really just like to stop and think for a bit."

Papyrus hummed again, tossing and turning. Then, with an exasperated sigh, he said, "I know of a vantage point ahead. We'll stop there. Try not to take too long though, Frisk. Despite my reputation and appearances, I am not an unlimited reservoir of stamina!"

A few more miles, and Papyrus pulled off to the side of the road, parking in an empty spot of dirt of pebbles. The thick of the forest was before them, the trees rustling from the wind carried by the sea. He let out a long yawn, blinking dazedly. "I might take a nap while you do whatever it is you're doing," said Papyrus tiredly. "For some reason, I am having quite the difficult time keeping my eyes open!"

"Maybe," teased Frisk as she opened up her door, "you shouldn't wake up so early to make breakfast."

"Hmph!" He leaned back his seat, closing his eyes. "Ungrateful human... Even though you do not deserve it, just call for me if you need anything. I shall reluctantly come to your aid."

She giggled. "Of course."

She got out of the car and checked for traffic, briefly blinded by the sun. Frisk put up a hand to shield her eyes from the bright light, then reached into her bag and grabbed onto her sunhat and placed it back over her head. Holding it to her as the wind blew, she crossed over the road and hopped over the driving barrier. On the other side was an outstretch of grassy cliff dipped down into a short pile of boulders. She ran her hand along the tops of the tall grass, their thin strands tickling her palms. She spotted the rocks and made her way further down, the highway drawing further away. Carefully climbing, she tucked her dress underneath her and settled into her spot that overlooked the shimmering expanse of sea, alight with the fire of the setting sun.

She took in a deep breath, smelling the salt and the trees and the grass, the raw earth itself, and let it out, expelling her stress with it. Her eyes opened, her brown irises glowing deep amber in the light of the dying day. She let herself become a spec in the scene, losing any importance and merely existing in this beautiful moment, one part to a whole picture. She was not the ambassador, she was not the fallen human, she wasn't a girl, she just was.

She brought her knees up to her chest, resting her head on her arms. The wind danced around her, her skirt waving in the breeze. It had been too long since she had immersed herself in the natural world, almost always finding herself surrounded by buildings and people with fake faces. The last time she had taken any sort of adventure was back when she was just a child, lost in the Underground, trying to get back out. It was ironic that she had only wanted to return to the surface back then, and now she would give almost anything to return to what she felt was closest to home than anything else. The adventures that she had there, the sights she had seen- all the new places and secrets and people and relations discovered, forged, cherished- all born there.

There, too, she had discovered herself, and who she was, and what she could do. She was informed that she was prophesied, that she was someone altogether different than anyone else that had fallen. She could do things that no one else could. The further along in her journey she had gotten, the truth to these words that become all too real.

She remembered the first time she died. Asriel had destroyed her so quickly that she could barely remember the excruciating agony that had torn her asunder before quickly becoming nothing. Then, it would start again, she would wake up and he was still there, and she tried again, and died again. She had met her fate so many times that, by the time she saw Asriel descend upon her for one more blow, she would just close her eyes and await for the end that could no longer instill within her the fear that it should have had.

Frisk stared into the sun, her eyes barely visible tucked between her arms and her hat. She had been so determined to save her friends from the world that was turning into nothing, absorbed into Asriel's wrath. Not even death itself could take her. She had been so different, so strange, so special that she had refused him.

The girl who refused death was now faced with a new world that presented itself to be more difficult that a reality collapsing. In here, there was greed, and selfishness, and malice that existed because it could, not because it was born. Even Asriel, for all he had done, had been a victim to the surface world. Why were they trying to fight for something that could turn a creature into an entity that wished for nothing but total annihilation?

Perhaps she couldn't see what they could see. She did not live as long as monsters did, and they must have known a world that was better than the one she knew. Then again, not very many still lived that were on the surface before the barrier came up. Did they remember the same thing? Or was it just what they wanted to remember, versus the truth? She had personally perused their library; it had questionable source material and some of it had been outright false. Is this the place they truly belonged?

She remembered the conversation she had with Sans before. She had been the one obstacle between the surface, and the entire monster population's hope. Unified, every single one, they wanted to leave the Underground. Even though what they knew wasn't verified, and the unknown held dangers unmeasurable, they all still wished to leave. Perhaps it wasn't the fact that the Underground was such a horrible place, but rather it was a realization that they should be free to go where they wished, including what used to be their home.

 _I don't think it's entirely worth it_ , thought Frisk sadly to herself, _but I will continue to fight for what you dream for. To even give you an opportunity- this I will do._

She heard a car in the distance drive by. A sea bird whistled far above her, followed by another cry from it's partner. She watched them lazily as they made circular patterns in the sky, moving where the wind took them. Remembering from earlier, she reached into her pack and pulled out the pair of socks. She rubbed the soft material between her hands, thinking of Sans. She wondered if he was waiting for her at Home already. She would have to tell him about everything that happened in the store. His opinions were hardly ever useful, instead being vague and turned into some sort of pun, which usually led to her making her own decisions, but she valued his opinion nonetheless.

Bind our two races...

Frisk's hands stopped moving, an uncomfortable knot forming in her stomach at the sudden memory. What Hector had said hadn't done much to her at the time, instead only briefly drawing her attention, but now, in this place of peace, she had time to process her thoughts and lay them out before her in an orderly fashion. That particular memory was a messy one, for it stirred within her complicated emotions that did not make sense in the whole picture. She had taken his words personally, as if they were aimed at her. It was as if a burden had been placed upon her, or an expectation of something that, out of all that she had taken on, was an impossibility.

Sans was a subject that she did not mind discussing, but it was a complicated one that had many halls and doors, some leading to nowhere, others leading to somewhere but missing the key. Ultimately, he was very special to her in a way that no one else was. He connected to her on a level that she could not detect, ever since he met her that snowy day Underground. It was as if he knew more about her than she knew about herself, which, if it was anyone else, would be more terrifying than anything. It being Sans though, it was oddly comforting, as if she didn't need to rely on just herself to figure out all of her ins and outs. Sans seemed to take it upon himself to put together the pieces that she would misplace, two of those moments having just happened the previous few nights. How he did it, she hadn't the faintest clue.

She wondered why he did it. Of course, she knew he cared for her. He had practically raised her, along with all of her other friends. Beyond that, however, it baffled her. Not even to his own brother did he express too many of his emotions, and when he did, they were rolled into a groan-inducing pun. Sans was just not that kind of monster; he very clearly had many of his own private thoughts, and he kept them that way. Talking to him about anything other than the immediate past and future usually resulted in a derailed conversation. He was a question wrapped in an enigma that had endless patience.

Perhaps it was that patience that made him stay next to her when, in his aforementioned knowing, he realized that Frisk needed companionship the most. She never had to be the one to ask him to show up, he was just there. When she needed time alone to breathe, silence was her friend. Even if it was as simple as burgers on the mind, he was at the door to walk down to the nearby bar. He knew exactly what she wanted, and it had been so long that it had been this way that now, sitting in this field confused and despondent, she couldn't help but feel disappointed. If she had the right to feel that way, that was another story.

She remembered the way he held her, how in their simple moment she rested on top of him, he her raft in her chaotic sea of fear and doubt. More than once she had found herself that way, falling asleep to the sound of the television as he laid down beside her, a forgotten arm draped around her. As a child, he was her protector that scared away the demons. As an adult, he was the thing she craved when her strength began to give. If he could appear beside her now, she knew that her stormy thoughts would break, and the sun would shine.

"I miss him," she said to herself suddenly and without surprise.

She heard a step behind her, and she turned, her hopes rising. Then, they crashed around her in a shattered mess when she realized it was not Sans there, but James. The wolf monster was standing a few meters away, his chest rising and falling. He was staring at her, unmoving from his spot on the hill above her. She remained still on her boulder, afraid to move even if she found the willpower to.

"What are you doing here," she asked evenly, her eyes unblinking.

"I need to talk to you," he said quickly, taking a step. She stood up suddenly, and he stopped. "Please don't run, I want to apologize."

"You followed us from the city, all the way to the middle of nowhere, just to apologize. How did you even get here?"

He looked away, reluctant. "I... I found a car."

"You found a car? You can't just take people's vehicles, James. That's a felony-"

"I don't care what these human laws say!" His sudden outburst caused Frisk's spine to straighten. "I am not a human, I am a monster. They," he sneered, "like to make that very clear to us all the time."

The cold realization that James was still incredibly volatile made her heart beat against her chest. This was too similar to being cornered in a cage by a lion. One wrong move...

"I appreciate the effort you took to come out here and apologize to me James," started Frisk calmly and with the lowest tone she could put together, "but you need to leave and go back Home."

"Home?" He appeared confused. "No, Abigail is still with the doc, and he said she can't go anywhere yet, not until she's recovered."

"I'm not talking about Abigail," said Frisk, discreetly reaching into her purse for her phone. "I'm talking about you. You need to go Home and get your thoughts together, you're acting out and it's going to scare everybody. You do not want scared humans, James."

Her idea was, with knowledge and reason, she would be able to make the wolf monster understand what was wrong with his actions, and would allow him to make the proper decisions that would bring him the most success. What Frisk failed to understand, however, was that any person in a desperate position like his, would not listen to reason. In fact, it would only fuel the fire. Her words shook at the end as she realized that she had made a horrible mistake with her request, and she swallowed, fear burning her throat. She suddenly became very aware that she was just a young human girl, in a large ruthless world, and she was very, very alone.

"P-Please-"

He stared at her coldly. "It's like you're not even listening. So, let me make this very clear…" He straightened, his full height catching the rays of the dying sun. "I am not leaving without Abigail."

What was supposed to be an apology was quickly becoming a dangerous situation. Frisk fumbled blindly with her phone as she watched James. She noticed he was making very small steps towards her, his anger palpable. Her breaths were becoming quick and shallow, trying desperately to navigate her phone to call Papyrus without drawing attention, but unable to look down or feel anything but the glossy glass, she could hardly even unlock her screen.

"T-Then go back to her," trembled Frisk, her fear now realized. "I accept your apology, just go back and leave me alone."

His discreet steps turned into purposeful ones, one powerful paw following the other. "You're going to take her away, aren't you?" He snarled as he came to a realization. "That's why you want me to go Home... You're just like those other humans. You don't care what she wants, or what I want, all you care about is yourself and your lives and you just want us all to _rot!_ "

His words hit her in a delicate spot in her heart, a place already bruised and beaten from past arguments. Her response was immediate and unfortunate.

"That's not what I want!" shouted Frisk, standing up and forgetting her fear in her sudden anger. She pointed bitterly at him, seething. "I do everything for you and your people, my life suffering for your gain! I struggle every day to do what I can to make you and your kind happy, to give you back the hope that you held Underground. I have always believed in your people, even when you would show me no kindness. To say that I would destroy your happiness- how dare you!"

He stopped in his march, taken aback by her anger. Their gazes were locked, both of their chest heaving with emotion. He looked confused, lost. Frisk realized that whatever sanity that the wolf once held was falling apart, his SOUL having become too damaged from the realities of this world. Then, his loved one, his Abigail, hurt and alone... What would happen to someone who's heart was their SOUL and their SOUL their body... What would happen when that heart broke...?

His gaze broke from hers and fell to the side. She followed it, and sucked in a hissing breath. She had pulled out her phone in her anger and was holding it to her side. He raised his head back to her.

Darkness. Danger. Death. It stood before her, enraged.

"You're going to call them," he growled. "You're going to have them take me away. Kill me." His massive paws clenched into fists, his claws digging into his flesh. He immediately started to bleed, the golden grass staining red. "You're going to kill her, too."

The inevitable outcome was moving too fast for her to keep up. One thought after another flashed before her eyes. The dread in her heart built up, larger and faster, climbing up and out, a scream that would rip her throat from the ferocity of her horror-

"PAPYRUS-!"

He moved too quickly for her to even blink. He rushed into her, his head colliding into her chest, her words cut abruptly short. She felt her heart stop and her feet leave the ground, the wind around her caressing her skin. She stared before her, watching the hill shrink, the highway disappear, Papyrus's descending form get smaller and smaller as time slowed down. Each thought she had moved at a year's pace, the pain that was inside her body growing too slowly in his warped reality. Her eyes slowly slid over to James's as the momentum from his impact pulled her away. The realization of what he had done was clear on his face, and he was crying, reaching for her. Too late, too late... His hands grabbed onto air as she tumbled backwards and fell over the side of the cliff. Her world was darkening as she watched the overlook overhead, the sounds of the waves growing louder in her ears. Her last view was Papyrus looking over the edge of the cliff, face struck with absolute terror. Then, her body met the water and she broke through, hitting darkness.

* * *

She opened her eyes. She was sinking into the ocean, the water so cold that it froze her completely. Her lungs were on fire, full of salt and water.

She was dying.

This familiar dance, having practiced it again and again, was a waltz she knew by heart. Her partner, a shadow that was a void, was behind her, holding her lovingly. He coveted her, a prize that was just out of his reach. Down, down, they danced, sinking further into the ocean, the light above them growing further and dimmer. She followed his lead, tucking her head into his shoulder, listening to the slow tempo that was her failing heart.

 _If I die here,_ she thought, swaying to the soundless music, _will this be the end?_

They danced further still, Frisk's mind becoming hazed and broken up. Words were not connecting and thoughts were disappearing faster than she could make them. This was different than the last time. They were going too far, the song playing for too long. In it, she heard the growing crescendo. Death's desires were within her, his excitement ice in her heart.

There was no restarting here. Not in this world.

She awaited the fear, but it did not come. Instead, aching loneliness and regret filled her, faces of her loved ones playing in her mind. Lost opportunities, missed chances, words that would never be said... Is this what death was truly like? To realize how much life one had missed? How many people would she not meet, how many lives she would not see born. What future she would never know; relationships that she could have had, mouths that she could have kissed?

Frisk continued to sink into the ocean, her tears lost to the water around her, never to be found. _I don't want to die,_ her mind cried, _I'm not ready. There's so much I want to do and say..._ Her mouth opened to cry out, but not even air escaped, her lips turning blue.

 _Not yet.. please..._

As she pleaded, no one came. Her eyes were slowly beginning to close as the shadows crept in. With it, her fear, regret, sadness- any feeling or thought- was wiped away by the power of death's hand. She was becoming nothing, forever.

A figure was growing above her, but her vision was disappearing. A skeleton hand reached for her and wrapped it's fingers around hers, pulling her in. A blue light enveloped her, warm and inviting. Arms encircled her, holding her tight. It reminded her of a regret she had, but even that disappeared, for memory and thought and anything that made Frisk, Frisk, did not belong in the world of the dead. Her heart gave one last beat, and then stopped, death bowing to her new partner.

Then, nothing.

* * *

A/N: Thank you all to have found an interest in this story. The feedback so far has been very appreciated! I update sporadically as inspiration comes and goes, but I hope you check back in every now and then as I continue on. This story is not dead! I however want to do Undertale justice and I want to attempt to reach those standards as I take my time to make this an enjoyable experience for those who happen to stumble upon my little dream dump :)

Thank you again,

MS


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